Fire and Ice
by Danaewesv
Summary: Couldn't figure out how to summarize this so...a few lines...Everything was wrong. The place was wrong, the people were wrong. The fire was spreading. All the wrong people in this wrong place were going to die.
1. Chapter 1

Fire and Ice

Wesv (Way-suh)

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, but boy, if I did! Not making or even hoping to make any money…This is old hat for everyone, right? Moving on…

Notes: This takes place a few months after the series ended and follows my story On the Rocks. Though it builds on a fact from that story, it does stand alone. You don't absolutely have to read On the Rocks to understand this one. In fact, just know that Van buys a house a few blocks off the beach in Venice at the end of On the Rocks, and you're caught up.

Thanks to my betas, prplerayne and Jy. You've been a tremendous help!

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"It's simple really. It was an old and honored tradition in ancient Egypt, actually. The pharaoh would take the prince of a conquered land back to Egypt as kind of a hostage so his daddy wouldn't get any wild ideas about revolting or something. Just think of it that way, Hayes. We keep your partner on ice to make sure you do your part. Everything goes fine, he gets out of there, and you guys get your drugs. However, you're a cop, or you don't do everything you can do to protect us, then he dies. Simple. Insurance, it's a wonderful thing."

Deaq looked again at the freezer door and its combination lock. Van was on the other side of that door, unconscious. And Billie… Billie was waiting for them at the marina to take these guys down. She was expecting to see Van arrive with them, and Deaq had no way to inform her to the contrary. He swallowed the scream of frustration that threatened to choke him.

"We'd better hurry. There are limits to human endurance to cold, you know. Hypothermia is probably starting already, seeing as how he's out and can't really move around to maintain body temperature. This takes any longer than the hour I have planned, and he's a goner."

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One week earlier

"Gary and Alan Foster." Billie tossed the file across her desk at them. Van caught it before it slid off onto the floor. "Brothers and boy geniuses and the jackasses responsible for the latest incarnation of meth on the streets. It's stronger, purer, and more dangerous than ever before, gentlemen. Thing is, we can't catch them with it. Seems they operate a little differently than most dealers."

"How so?" Deaq asked as he took the papers Van was offering him. He looked down at the pictures on top of the stack. Two clean-cut, All-American Richie Rich look-a-likes smiled up at him, complete with matching golf sweaters. He quirked an eyebrow at them in return. This was going to be a walk in the park, he decided.

"They work on an order-by-order basis. They don't have a stockpile. They made samples and sent them out to major players on the distribution end of the trade and took orders. They filled the orders, and that's all they did. So by the time Narcotics got to them, there were no drugs to be found. As for money, they're loaded anyway, so no way to prove any of it was drug money. Then apparently they laid low for a while. But now maybe they've gotten bored or something because rumor is that they're ready to make another batch. That's where you two come in. Line 'em up and let's take 'em down. Just be careful of them, okay?"

"I think we can handle Huey and Louey, Billie." Deaq smirked as he closed the file. He glanced at his partner, who grinned at him and shook his head.

"Look at me, both of you. Two dealers haven't been seen since allegedly setting up a deal with these guys. Also, there were six deaths from the first batch, and that's just the users. That doesn't count the people that the users killed either accidentally or intentionally."

"What do you mean, haven't been seen since?" Van sat up in his chair.

"I mean, vanished, gone. Without a trace so far. One of Maxie Q's boys and one of Cecil's boys are just gone. Maxie and Cecil don't seem too upset, but, personally, I don't want you guys to be next to disappear."

"Speaking of which, I guess this means going after Maxie is on hold?" Van asked.

"Captain Parish put this one on the top of our priority list, guys. He wants the Fosters, and we have to get them for him. Any questions?"

"What's our in?" Deaq put the file back on Billie's desk.

"That's something you're going to have to handle yourselves. We don't have anyone close to them. Think Aquarius can get you a meet?"

"Probably. If not, we got a few more doorknobs we can turn," Deaq told her.

"Well, go. Sooner we get these guys off the streets, the better I'll feel." She flipped her hand at them in a shooing motion.

Deaq got up and nearly collided with his partner as they both turned toward the door. "After you, man," Deaq offered.

"No, by all means, after you." Van grinned at him and swept his arms toward the door in what would have been a gallant gesture had Deaq been a woman.

"No way, V! After you, I insist."

"Get out of my office! And take the damn file with you!" Billie screamed from behind them, causing both of them to jump and then burst into laughter. Van reached back and grabbed the file from her desk, and together, they clamored out of the door.

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Of course, Aquarius had a friend of a friend that knew some guy who had a class with Alan Foster at the university. Deaq shook his head and laughed a little at his erstwhile "uncle." Aquarius always had seemed to know all the players in all the games, and could get himself dealt in wherever he wanted. That made Deaq very glad he was on their side of the table. "He said he'd have something for us by morning."

"So, where to now?"

"Dinner? Someplace where we can spread out and go through that file."

"Your place and pizza delivery?" Van suggested.

"Works for me."

Two hours and an empty pizza box later, they had gone through every piece of paper in the Foster file with a fine toothcomb. Deaq shook his head and slumped down on his couch. "What's the world coming to, V? Two rich slices of Wonder Bread with silver spoons and Dean's List grades lose their interest in polo and become drug dealers. It's a sad state of affairs."

Van seemed to study Deaq's face for a long moment before he picked up his beer and downed the last of it. "Wonder Bread has silver spoons dipped into many, many things. You know this, Deaq." He got up and tossed the empty bottle in the trash as he headed into the kitchen for another to replace it.

"When did you become the cynical one?" Deaq asked.

Van shrugged as he walked back into the room and plopped down in the chair once again. "Okay, we've got Alan, the chemistry major, and his brother, the business major. Pretty good setup, really. You don't suppose that ol' Alan mixes that stuff up right there in the university lab, do you?"

"Nah, too visible."

"Not if he's got after hours access, and as a grad student and teaching assistant, he does. But it would be too easy. We don't get that lucky."

"Speak for yourself, man. I have great luck."

"Ri-ight. Where was your luck Friday night, man? That girl so dissed you. I almost cried for your sake."

"It was your face, V! You looked like a thug with that busted lip and black eye. How is a brother supposed to get his mack on when some pissed-off, beat-up bulldog is hanging around? You look a lot better, by the way."

"Gee, thanks, partner."

"You're welcome," Deaq responded with a flippant grin. "You know, you could have gotten me another beer while you were up."

"You know, I could have. But you called me a pissed-off, beat-up bulldog and insinuated that I, not only had bad luck, but also essentially was bad luck. Get your own damn beer." Van leaned his head back and tipped up his bottle once again.

"I'll—" His cell phone rang, cutting off Deaq's promise of revenge. He glared at Van instead as he retrieved the phone from under the messy file. "Hayes." He listened to Aquarius's instructions. "Cool, thanks, man. We'll be there." He hung up.

"Where will we be?" Van mumbled lazily, his head rolling on the back of his chair so that he could just barely see Deaq on the couch.

"One of the university's graduate chemistry labs, 2nd floor, 203, 9am."

"Great. Not only are they annoyingly 'Leave It to Beaver' preppy, they're also morning people. I hate 'em already."

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Van looked like he had just rolled out of bed and dressed in the dark. Of course, he most often did as far as Deaq was concerned. But this time it was worse. The shirt was some strange shade of orange and looked like a lava lamp gone wild. It was a psychedelic nightmare with Van's brown leather pants. "You doing this just for spite?"

"Doing what?"

Van had innocent down pat, Deaq thought before replying, "Dressing like a thrift store reject. And what's up with the hair? You're flipping this way, and that, there, V. Your comb broke or something?"

"I happen to like this shirt, thank you. And we're not talking about the hair. We are ignoring the hair today, okay? Let's just go meet the Wonder Bread and try to buy drugs like we supposed to." He checked his gun one more time and stuffed it into the back of his pants.

Deaq was grinning. "Buy drugs like we're supposed to. You know, there is just something fundamentally wrong about that line. Don't say that in front of Hill, okay?"

"Get in the damn car."

"Whoa! Testy today, aren't we? It's the hair, right?" Deaq laughed out loud at the expression on Van's face.

The remark got him a good long ride filled with blessed silence. Van was not speaking to him. At first, he was ecstatic, wondering if miracles would never cease. However, as Van crossed three lanes of traffic and made a nearly two-wheeled turn into one of the many university parking lots, Deaq began to wonder instead if just maybe a silent Van was not a good thing after all.

"Okay, what's up, dawg?"

"You know, if I didn't hate the cold so damn much, I'd move to Antarctica to get away from my family."

"What family this time? Ray-Ray's not back, is he?"

"No, not back. Just on the phone at 3am, drunk and married. I had to say hello to some woman named Nancy Jo and consent to call her Mama before I was allowed to get off the phone. Then my day went downhill from there." He pulled into a parking space and pointed to a nearby building. "There it is. The science building. Ready?"

"Are you?"

"Ready as I'm ever going to get." Van exited the car so quickly that Deaq was left trying to get out of his seatbelt and hurry after his partner.

"Sorry, V."

"Huh?"

"About Ray-Ray and Nancy Jo."

"Never mind. I should be used to it by now."

Damn, he hated when Van said that. He said it too much. "What happened to that honey he was hanging with? What was her name?"

"I'm trying to forget, thanks. I told you, she wasn't his type." Van opened the door to the science building for his partner. "Can we stop talking about this now?"

"Sure, dawg." Deaq shook his head as Van started up the stairs to the second floor without him. He followed, suddenly wondering why Van knew where to find the science building and the labs. As a matter of fact, Van had known a lot about lab access, grad students and teaching assistants. Interesting. Maybe there was actually something Van hadn't told him about his past. Then again, it was probably just a few adventures with cute co-eds. Deaq didn't want to hear about those. He decided not to ask.

He caught up with Van at the door to Room 203. It was open, and they could see the two men inside. One was leaning on a lab table while the other was pouring one mixture into another. The first one noticed them in the doorway and smirked at them.

"Come on in, gentlemen. Please, make yourselves at home," he greeted as the other put down his beakers and looked up at them.

Deaq took the lead this time, Van following about two steps behind. Foster number one, Gary, Deaq recalled from the pictures in the file, approached them as his brother Alan took off his goggles and stretched leisurely, leaning back in his chair. "Who's Hayes, and who's Strummer?"

"Hayes," Deaq answered. He pointed at Van. "Strummer. You would be?"

"I'm Gary; that's Alan. I hear you gentlemen are interested in doing a little business."

"Straight to the point, I like that," Van said.

"Why not? We checked you out, you realize. As I'm sure you checked us out before even trying to arrange a meeting. Correct?"

"Of course," Deaq answered.

"Then, no reason to beat around the bush. Have a seat, and let's make a deal."

Half an hour later, Deaq shook each Fosters' hand. The deal was set. Delivery in one week of the product they referred to as Seventh Heaven, 20 pounds, pure, for the low, low, bargain price of 700,000 dollars cold hard cash. On the street, it was worth twice that. A generous profit, Deaq thought. In fact, the profit margin worried him a little, but Gary had said it was an introductory offer, one time only. "Nice doing business with you. See you back here then in a week."

"You got it, dude," Gary waved congenially.

Van was already halfway to the door when he simply nodded his head in acknowledgement. It was the first response Deaq had seen from his normally animated and loquacious partner since the negotiations began. As they left the building, Deaq put one hand on Van's shoulder. "Well, you could have been a little friendlier, you know? You got that tight lip thing going again, V. I know you're not the happiest guy in the world right now, but you got to get a grip, dawg. Your sour face could have ruined the deal."

"Sorry. I'll pull it together, man. Promise."

"Well, the deal went fine. Don't worry about it. Just at least smile next time."

"Gotcha." He was silent then until they reached the Mercedes they had signed out for the week. "Gotta wonder about their generosity."

"Thought that myself, but he did say introductory offer. If there was going to be a next time, we'd be paying out the nose, I bet."

"Yeah." Van cranked the car.

"Van, are you sure you're okay?" One-word answers just didn't suit Van at all to Deaq's mind.

"I'm fine," his partner snapped. "Man, have one bad morning, and people are ready to ship you off to the loony bin," he muttered as he backed out of the parking space.

Deaq chuckled a little. "Let's just get back to the Candy Store and let Billie know about the deal. And by the way, I've been convinced that you needed to be shipped off for a long time now."

"Bite me."

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"So, the stuff will be ready in a week. We meet them at the university lab and follow them out to the marina for the pick up."

Billie tapped her pen on her desk as Deaq finished his summary of their deal with the Fosters. "Why not just do the deal at the lab?"

"Campus security is getting really tight due to the orange level terrorist warning. They had to stop dealing on university grounds because security got themselves a few dogs and started doing random searches. Makes life for the Foster brothers a little difficult. Poor things." Deaq grinned.

"Why meet at the lab at all then? Why not just go straight to the marina?"

"Didn't ask. But I'd guess because they didn't want us having too much information."

Van spoke up for the first time then. "The marina's a better option anyway. Easier to stake out and easier to assault. The lab is one of the small ones used by grad students. The close quarters would make for a dangerous raid."

Billie nodded. "No exact location at the marina?"

"No. Just watch for us. You won't be able to miss us." Deaq told her.

"I want at least one of you wired," she said.

"It should be me, I think. I hate wires, but I'll do it," Van little more than mumbled.

"Why you? And why do you look like an extra from an Austin Powers movie?"

Deaq waved his hands frantically to try to stave off the question, but it was too late. The words were out of her mouth before she ever turned her glare his way.

Van was growling in frustration. "You know, I'm glad I am such a source of amusement for you both."

"Oh, geez, here we go again." Billie rolled her eyes. "It's your hair—"

"We aren't talking about the hair! Okay? We're ignoring the hair. I've had a bad day. That's it. As for the wire, just thought I'd volunteer. Deaq's going to be front man on this. I can stand there and be a microphone."

Billie gave him the penetrating stare that Deaq always hated to have directed at him. "Okay. Fine by me. So in the meantime?"

"Well, I got invited to the 'Club' tomorrow for a round of golf. And they mentioned getting together for a little partying this week."

"You got invited? What about Van?"

"I got invited too, as an afterthought." Van shrugged a little.

"An afterthought?"

"They got rapport with Deaq. What can I say?"

"Okay, what's her name?"

Deaq groaned and put his head in his hands. Sometimes, Billie could be really, really dense.

"You wanna know? You really wanna know? Okay, okay, I'll tell you! Nancy Jo! Or as she prefers I call her, Mama! Happy now?"

"Oh, oh, never mind, I don't wanna know. That's enough. TMI, Van."

"Good! I'm hungry. You coming?" He directed the question to Deaq before walking out of Billie's glass box office.

"It's not what you think," Deaq whispered. "It's Ray-Ray again. He called last night or rather very, very early this morning. He's married some woman named Nancy Jo. Threw Van for a loop."

"So he married a bimbo. What's the trauma?"

"Everything dealing with Ray-Ray is a trauma with Van. You should know that by now."

"He should just write the guy off," she insisted.

"It's his pops. Could you write off your father?"

She never got to answer as Van's irritated voice rang through the Candy Store. "Deaq!"

"Gotta go. He'll leave me. Want something?"

"No, go. Calm him down."

"Like I haven't been trying, girl. Later." Deaq ran out then. Van already had the car running. He was sitting in the driver's seat glaring at nothing when Deaq slipped into the passenger's seat. It was going to be a rough day.

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An uninterrupted night's sleep had done little to make Van any more sociable. He had managed a smile, however unconvincing. Now, however, he sat in the golf cart, toying with his cell phone and a golf ball or two alternately.

He wasn't dressed any better either. In fact, it was worse. He must have forgotten to do laundry. If it had not been for the Fosters, Van would have never gotten into the Club. A reminder of how much the Club valued their father's support had the management backing down with smiles as unconvincing as Van's. On the up side, Van's Medusa hair was gone. Well, except for that one strand that hung in his eyes. It was annoying Deaq to no end, that one stray strand, and he wanted to reach over and shove it back off Van's face. However, he didn't want to try his partner's disposition just yet. He'd probably pull back a nub.

"So, Van," Gary Foster started, and Deaq held his breath, "You don't like golf?"

Okay, that was a relatively safe question, Deaq thought as he released the pent-up air. Please be nice was the silent message he tried to convey to his partner. Van looked at him as if he received it, though, which caused Deaq to raise an eyebrow.

"Golf's fine. Just not in the mood for chasing that little ball around right now, you know?" He was now bothering a string at the knee of his ripped jeans.

"Ah, it must be us then. You don't like us, do you, Van?" Gary walked a little closer to the cart and lifted the club in his hand until he touched the head of it to the hole in Van's jeans.

"Guys—"

"Hey, man—" Deaq looked at Alan Foster as the two of them spoke together.

Van lifted his eyes from the club at his leg to Gary's face. "I don't have to like you to do business with you, but since you brought it up…"

"Oh, shit," Deaq whispered under his breath.

"It's not you guys, okay?" Van said, surprisingly. "Got some personal things going on. You guys are just fine. Besides, how could I not like the guys who are helping me and Deaq make 700,000 dollars? That'd be just rude." Then his partner smiled at both of the Fosters, and Deaq would have sworn in court it was a real smile, too. Van Strummer was suddenly, finally firmly in control. Van Ray was gone. Scary, Deaq shivered.

Gary nodded. "I can understand personal stuff. Okay, cool. Just wondering. In that case, guys, how about a nice barbeque tomorrow night?"

"Sounds cool," Deaq replied, glancing at Van then back at Gary.

"Unfortunately, our folks are going to be back in town. Van, what about your place? We'll bring the steaks and the women." Gary waggled his eyebrows at them both.

"Um, Deaq's got a bigger place," Van redirected. Van had long since moved out of the hotel, but what he had moved to was not the place of a high rolling drug dealer.

"Come on, buddy, we're all friends. We don't mind smaller. If you like us, why not have us over?"

Van looked to Deaq. It was a test, and Van's little cottage in Venice was not going to pass for this. Deaq nodded briefly. He could give up his place for a night or Billie could find Van somewhere. For that matter, he could just tell them he was still staying in a hotel providing a legitimate reason for moving the party elsewhere. He waited for Van's response.

"Well, I just moved in. Can I call you tonight to confirm? I just need to get some things in order before I entertain guests. You know how that is, right?

Gary grinned. "Oh yeah, get the bar set up, sheets on the beds, condoms in the nightstands. No problem."

The rest of the golf game was uneventful. Lunch was even pleasant. Van was now fully in the game once again. After the coffee and conversation, the brothers went off to, in their own words, "cook up some party favors" and Deaq and Van headed off to the Candy Store. Van needed an actual house before tomorrow. Well, that wasn't fair. It was true that the little place wasn't much when Van bought it, but it had cleaned up nice just like Van said it would. It suited Van.

At any rate, Deaq called Billie to warn her while they were driving in. He even offered his place, but Billie said she had another idea. Secretly, Deaq was happier that way. He liked his house. He didn't want to inadvertently host a party or end up sleeping on his own couch with Van in his bed for appearances. At last, everything was going smoothly. At least it was until they pulled up outside the Candy Store.

There was a strange car sitting out front, and just as Van wondered aloud who it belonged to, Deaq's cell rang. "Hayes."

"Deaq, we have a problem," Billie's voice informed him. "Where are you guys?"

"Right outside. Whose car?" Deaq got out of their car.

She swore like the proverbial sailor. "Can you get Van back in the car and out of here?"

Deaq looked at Van standing a few feet away gesturing at him with impatience toward the building. "Not without a reason. Not looking good, nope." Van took a few more steps toward the door. "You wanna give me a reason?"

"Make up something to tell him. I don't think he wants to come in here right now."

Deaq spun his back to his partner. Now, he understood. "It's fucking Ray-Ray, isn't it?" he whispered.

"And Mama. It's bad, Deaq."

It was Deaq's turn to play the sailor. He turned back to see Van reaching for the door. "Van! Hey, man, um, why don't we head to the grocery store to get—um, groceries for the party?"

"Is that the best you could do?" Billie screeched in his ear.

"Later." Van waved him off. "Are you coming?"

"I know, um, Billie's got your address, don't you Billie? We can go check out your new place."

It was the wrong thing to say. "That's Billie? We can go inside to talk to—wait, why is that Billie?" Deaq could almost see the light bulb coming on over his partner's head. "Why are you trying to keep me out of there? What's going on?"

"Van—" But Van was already inside the building. "Damn." Deaq hung up without another word and followed him. The scene he was witness to once inside would stay with him the rest of his life. It would be a funny story for his grandkids one day, but at that moment and for some time to come, it would just be sad and somewhat disturbing. The first thing that struck him was not what he saw, but what he heard. The loud, eardrum-piercing squeal that he was sure had dogs howling for miles assaulted him even before he saw her. Her apparently being Nancy Jo, he could only assume. His eyes were still adjusting to the inside light, but he saw her outline as she ran toward Van with her arms outstretched and—well, her inordinately large breasts bouncing. She was going to have two black eyes if she didn't stop soon, he thought.

Then his attention was drawn away from her for a moment as he realized that Van was backing up. Deaq caught him as he nearly tripped over the bumper of one of the many cars present. Van tried to brush him off and make good his escape, but just as he started to turn to run for the door, she was on him.

Nancy Jo. She was interesting in a horrifying sort of way, Deaq noted as she flung her arms around Van and squeezed him tight, still squealing, though Deaq could make out words this close up. "Oh, aren't you just precious! So adorable! I could just eat you up!" She was young. Too young! Deaq estimated her age between barely legal to early twenties, with the twenties being unlikely. She had gigantic—okay, boobs, but also hair. It was huge and frizzy, and obviously bleached to the max. And she so had to be a stripper. Deaq just could not imagine her being anything else. Problem was, she was not exactly the type of stripper one paid big bucks to see. Nope, not by a long shot. Of course, Deaq figured once she took off her top, nobody noticed much else. She wasn't ugly exactly, but she damn sure wasn't what he expected from Ray-Ray. He could have had Gretchen, that was her name, but instead, he had Nancy Jo. Van had said his father had questionable taste in women. Van was right. Ray-Ray must have been half-blind or blind drunk.

Speaking of the devil, Ray-Ray finally emerged from the shadows and approached them. Billie was not far behind, a scowl on her face that would send lesser men and smarter people running. But Deaq was tough; Ray-Ray was, too(not to mention Deaq was doubting his mental faculties at the moment), and Nancy Jo didn't exactly strike Deaq as a mental giant. As for his partner, poor Van was still trapped in the vice-like grip of his new stepmother. Poor Van. He would have needed a crowbar to get away. It wasn't Billie that spoke first though. It was Ray-Ray.

"Van! Meet Nancy Jo!" Van's father called out.

Little late for an intro, Deaq was tempted to say, but he kept quiet as Nancy Jo finally released Van from the "octo-grip" and started pinching his cheeks and baby-talking him. Oh, this was bad. Deaq was going to be ill, but he'd have to beat Van to the toilet. His partner was looking a little pale.

"Deaq! How's it hanging, my man?"

"Ray-Ray. What are you doing here? You know you're still a fugitive, man." Deaq could see in Billie's face that he had hit upon her main source of irritation.

"Nancy Jo wanted to meet Van. I was hoping I could at least drop in on my son without getting carted off to prison, guys. Tell me I'm right!" He spread one arm out wide while the other clutched his chest dramatically.

Billie's angry sigh and quick jerk of a nod was the only answer he received. "Excuse me," she turned her attention to Nancy Jo then. "Could you please stop accosting my officer? The last thing he needs is rosy cheeks and your lipstick all over him."

Deaq did a double take. Yep, there it was. He'd missed the smack on Van's forehead somehow, but sure enough, she'd left evidence behind. And Van now had more than rosy cheeks. He was seriously blushing now, the flush reaching his ears and down to the collar of his shirt. Deaq fought the sudden urge to laugh. Van would not appreciate it, and truthfully, it wasn't funny. This woman was Van's stepmother. Ew. And she was attached to him again. Ew.

Instead of acknowledging Billie, Nancy Jo released Van once again, causing Van to stumble a little, and ran to her new husband. Ew. "Oh, Ray-Ray, he's a just a doll! He's so cute. He's your son, baby, that's for sure."

"Yeah, he's a good-looking kid. Van, this is Nancy Jo," he said proudly, wrapping an arm around the woman's shoulders. He had to still be drunk, Deaq decided.

"Mama," she corrected.

Van's mouth opened then closed. It opened again and a little squeak and choking sound came out, but still no words. His mouth closed again. Interesting, Van, speechless. Who knew that could happen? Deaq turned his head away to hide the little chuckle that he just could not stop. Then he felt guilty as Van turned to him, a pleading expression in his eyes. It was then that Deaq realized that Van had not said a word through the whole scene. He'd just let it all happen around him with a sort of deer in the headlights paralysis that was suddenly quite disconcerting.

"Hey, V, you okay?" Deaq asked quietly.

A visible shiver ran through Van's body. "Deaq?" he finally said. "She's—I can't call her—oh god."

"It's okay, man."

"Van," Nancy Jo moved toward him once again, compelling Deaq to step in front of his partner. She was not getting her claws in him again.

"Dad! She's younger than me! You're younger than me, " he accused Nancy Jo. "You are not my mother. Are you even 18!"

"I'll be twenty in two weeks," she announced with a little bounce.

"Dad! Okay, okay, I'm outta here." And he was gone before Deaq could react.

"Deaq—" Billie started.

"Go with him, I know. Um, congrats, Ray-Ray, Nancy Jo." Deaq ran out of the Candy Store. Luckily, Van was waiting for him. The car was running, and Van was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were stark white, but he had waited all the same. However, Deaq was going to have to try to get him to relinquish that steering wheel. Van was in no shape to drive, and Deaq valued his own life too much to get into that passenger's seat. He opened the driver's door. "Move over." He expected an argument, but he didn't get one. Okay, time to get Van good and drunk.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Fire and Ice

Wesv (Way-suh)

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, but boy, if I did! Not making or even hoping to make any money…This is old hat for everyone, right? Moving on…

Notes: This takes place a few months after the series ended and follows my story On the Rocks. Though it builds on a fact from that story, it does stand alone. You don't absolutely have to read On the Rocks to understand this one. In fact, just know that Van buys a house a few blocks off the beach in Venice at the end of On the Rocks, and you're caught up.

Thanks to my beta, prplerayne and Jy. You're wonderful! Love Ya! And thanks for the reviews!

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Part 2

"So what do you think?" Alan Foster asked his brother as they lounged by the family pool, sipping drinks.

"I think that Van Strummer is dangerous and unpredictable. Hayes, I like. But Strummer, we need to get him out of the way."

"Well, let's just make sure he lives, okay? Hayes may not take his death as well as those other lowlifes took their partners' demise." Alan shook his drink gently.

"Hey, you cooked up the drugs that took out that first one. What the hell was his name?" Gary asked.

"I forget. And I may have to own up to the first one, but the second, that was your bright idea. I told you they weren't cops. But no, couldn't believe me."

"Caution will keep us out of prison. Cops don't let someone shoot their partners. So our last friend passed his test. Think Hayes and Strummer will pass theirs?"

"I think they're at least friends. If we can just find a way to hold on to Strummer, Hayes won't double-cross us. That's what I think."

"That doesn't bother you? That doesn't even hint at cops to you? Most of the scum out there that we've been supplying doesn't give a damn about each other. When they do care, it sets off alarms in my head." Gary was up and pacing now.

"Gary, even lowlifes have friends occasionally. But if you're so worried, then we definitely need some insurance, and since Strummer is the loose cannon, let's tie him down."

"And if they are cops, we kill 'em both. Work for you?"

"Works for me." Alan downed the rest of his drink.

"Good, because I have the perfect plan for Strummer. In the meantime, let's find out just how good a friend Hayes is. Got some of that new stuff you've been working with?"

"Sure. Tomorrow, at the party? See how Hayes reacts?"

"Yeah."

"Should be fun." They grinned at each other.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Deaq didn't stop putting drinks in front of Van until the man's words were so slurred he was not to be understood, which was probably a good thing considering that most of those words were about killing his father. He laid out Ray-Ray's untimely demise in several ways before the alcohol rendered him unintelligible. Deaq really hoped that nothing untoward happened to Raymond Ray because there would be a bar full of witnesses to point fingers at Van.

Finally, when Van declared his dad a "shrailer park crash chasin' frucking man-ho" and started sliding off the barstool, Deaq thanked the snickering bartender through laughter of his own and gathered up a compliant but very heavy Van and loaded him up in the Mercedes. By the time they made it to the car, he had vowed never to call Van skinny again. His partner was solid; that was for sure.

As he climbed into the driver's seat, he realized he had another problem. He contemplated trying to find Van's place in the dark. Venice was not his usual stomping grounds, and he'd only been there three times after all. Did he turn left or right after passing the fortuneteller's? Hell, he didn't even remember the name of the street. Truth was Aquarius had been to Van's more often than he had. He should probably feel guilty about that, but Van always managed to have Deaq working on some project in the house when he went over there.

Then there was yet another thing to consider. He didn't know where Van's keys were. In his pocket was the mostly likely place. So, dig around in a drunken Van's pants for his keys? No. Wander through Venice in the dead of the night hoping he could find Van's house. Nah-uh. He'd take Van home with him.

Besides, that way Deaq could help him through the hangover he would inevitably have. It was the least he could do, seeing as how he would have helped Van acquire said hangover. Van wasn't a big drinker normally. That time with the rodeo clowns-turned-bad guys was the only time Deaq had ever seen Van truly intoxicated. Deaq had even watched him nurse one drink for several hours, and of the two of them, it was generally Deaq who drank four beers to Van's two out of any six-pack. However, this was hardly a normal time. Deaq figured he deserved a good, sloppy drunk.

Then again, an hour later, as Deaq held Van's hair back as his partner sat on Deaq's bathroom floor with his head nearly in the toilet, Deaq figured that neither he nor Van deserved this particular brand of hell-night. Then his cell phone rang. Swearing, he got up and ran for the chirping thing, hoping that Van wouldn't just collapse over into the toilet and drown before he could get back.

"Hello?"

"Deaq, my man, we were expecting to hear from Van tonight about the party tomorrow. What's up?"

Shit, the Fosters. He'd forgotten all about them. "Hey, Gary, man, Van's not feeling too great right now. As a matter of fact, he's staying here tonight. Um, the party is on. Hold on and I'll get you the address." He put the cell down and grabbed his cordless. He called Billie's number as he jogged back to the bathroom. "Oh, damn, Van." He walked over to his unconscious partner sprawled out on the floor in front of the bathtub. "Billie," he said as her voice came to his ear, "It's Deaq. Need that address for Van. And probably need you to get the place set up tomorrow, too."

He listened to only a moment of her complaints of trying to reach Van all night before he cut her off. "Billie, need it now. Foster's on my cell waiting." She rattled off the address, and he repeated it back to her to make sure he had it right then hung up. He sighed then left the bathroom again. He picked up his abandoned cell phone. "Okay, 3473 Overlook Drive." He made the appropriate polite comments and ended the call. Now, he had to get Van off the floor and into the spare room. Maybe Van didn't need to get sloppy drunk anymore.

Ten minutes later, Van was all tucked in with the bathroom trashcan right next to the bed just in case. He was probably out for the count though. Deaq turned off the overhead light and shuffled to his own bedroom. He got himself ready for bed and was almost asleep before he hit the pillows.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

This was not his house. Neither was it a hotel room. His pounding head tried to ascertain his whereabouts and came up with—well, nothing. It was nice, wherever it was. So that was good.

There was no one in the bed with him, and it looked as if there had not been at any point. Yep, pretty sure he slept alone. Another bright spot in an otherwise miserable morning thus far. An anonymous, drunken one-night stand would have been more than he wanted to face right now.

Van shoved the nice sheets and comforter off and sat up slowly. Okay, his pants were still on, though his shirt, socks and shoes were missing. So, strange but nice place, no bed partner, and still partially clothed. Deaq. He had to be at Deaq's.

His muddled brain dredged up a memory of drinking with Deaq. Drinking a lot as a matter of fact. He was then reminded of Deaq's bathroom. To be specific, he remembered that Deaq had a clean toilet; he'd gotten a close up view after all, just before he'd puked in it. He sighed. He was never going to live this down.

He stood up and waited for the tiny stars that exploded around his eyes to burn out before he moved. One foot in front of the other, he made his way to the door of the bedroom. Once out in the hall, he recognized that indeed his detective skills were intact to some extent. He was in Deaq's house. There was noise coming from where he knew the kitchen to be. He'd go there, he decided as he put one hand on the wall to steady himself. Soon, he stood in the doorway looking in at his partner as he dug around in the refrigerator.

"Hey," he said.

Deaq turned. "Hey yourself. Glad you're up. I was going to have to try and drag your ass out of bed soon."

"Like you dragged my ass into bed last night? You know, I'd never seen your guest room."

"How's your head?"

"Well, ever wonder what a popcorn popper feels like when the corn starts popping? I can tell you now if you'd like."

Deaq grimaced on his behalf. "You need fluids." He turned back to the fridge.

"As long as there's no reference to proof on the label, I'll drink it."

"Orange juice?" Deaq presented the half-gallon carton.

"Thanks. You want any?" Van took it from him. It was almost full.

"No, go ahead."

Van opened it up and started drinking straight from the carton.

"Hey, hey, not so fast. Leave some to take these aspirin with." Deaq grabbed his free hand and slapped an aspirin bottle in it.

Van nodded and popped the top off the bottle without ever lowering the orange juice carton. He stopped drinking long enough to toss four of the pills into his mouth and then lifted the carton again. A moment later, he put the empty carton on the counter.

"Take a shower," Deaq instructed. "We have a long day ahead of us."

"Um, did I do anything stupid last night?"

"Well, you called your dad a—and I'm translating from 'drunkese,' here—'trailer park trash chasing, fucking man-whore' and planned out about ten different ways to accomplish making Nancy Jo a widow in front of a bar full of people."

"Oh, shit. Would any of them work?"

"I'm assuming you mean could you get away with any of them without a prison term? Well, the arsenic doughnuts might have some potential. But seeing as how you left behind so many witnesses, you might want to wait a long while before trying it."

"Gotcha."

"Now, go. We're going to be late." Deaq shooed him out of the kitchen.

No real jokes about not being able to hold his liquor, Van thought as he gave his partner a sloppy salute and headed back down the hallway to the bathroom. Cool.

Long day, Deaq had said. What kind of long day? Oh geez, he had to throw a party tonight in a house he had yet to see. Great, just great.

In the meantime though, he needed to swing by home. He needed to get some clothes and feed his cat. Well, she was sort of his cat. He'd discovered her living in the laundry room of his house when he started working on it. She was a little gray thing with white paws, chin and chest. She also had white stripes on both her front legs. Van called them her racing stripes. She didn't seem to mind his presence, and Van figured they could just share the house. So they did. She came and went as she pleased, just like Van, and occasionally they were there together. He named her Abby because she listened to his problems, and while she didn't offer any advice, she did give a lot of comfort in exchange for a little food and a place out of the rain. Deaq would probably call him crazy if he knew Van was talking to a cat. Deaq hadn't even met Abby yet. With the exception of Aquarius, she made herself scarce when company came. Did Deaq even like cats, he wondered as he stepped into the bathroom. He'd have to remember to call Aquarius to take care of Abby.

The shower was wonderful, and the aspirin was apparently working. Van felt much better as he walked into the living room still towel-drying his hair. "Don't suppose you have a blowdryer?"

Deaq just stared at him like he'd just landed in a spaceship from Mars.

"Take that as a no." Van plopped down on the couch.

"Don't get comfortable. We have to get going. Billie set you up with a house, but we need to make it look lived in before tonight."

"Yeah. So, where do I live now?"

"Let's go see, partner."

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He'd learned two things as the day progressed. One, Deaq did not like cats, which Abby seemed to instinctively know, therefore making her determined to walk all over him. It was hilarious, really. The more he tried to get away, the more tenacious she became, until finally Deaq gave up and Abby curled up in his lap as Van packed up a few personal belongings and clothes to set the stage for the performance he would give for the Fosters later.

Two, people who lived in glass houses were stupid. 3473 Overlook Drive was a huge fishbowl of a house that made him feel as if he was on display. It made him nervous. The whole front of the house was glass. The whole back of the house was glass. Glass panels everywhere, every outside wall was made primarily of huge glass panels. He supposed it was great for surveillance purposes, but it was unnerving. At least the bedrooms were made private by vertical blinds running the length of the outside walls. Then Billie opened them.

"I'll have a team set up right over there." She pointed to a stand of trees across the road. "Anything goes wrong, we'll move in. Also, there are cameras and microphones in every room except the bathrooms. I'd prefer not to hear and see some things. Van, get your stuff put away, and we'll be set. Any questions?"

Van shook his head as Deaq answered, "We got this. Don't worry."

"Okay. That would be your groceries for tonight." She nodded toward the courtyard outside as a delivery truck pulled to a stop near the front door. "There's alcohol, but I don't have to tell you two to make it look good, but stay sober, do I?"

"Billie," Deaq said, irritation creeping into his voice, "we got this."

"Deaq, do not take them lightly."

"I'm not, but we got this. Go; get your team ready. We'll be ready."

Van just listened as he opened the closet and started hanging his clothes there. The part of his brain not on the conversation began to wonder if his father was still in town. He had Van's cell number, but there was no call. Not yet anyway. He was probably mad. Too bad. Van was a bit angry himself. So there. His new stepmother, no, he couldn't even go there. His father's new wife was two weeks shy of twenty and several miles shy of class. The bleach had obviously sunk in and done some damage to a few brain cells, too.

Why, oh why did his father have such horrible taste in women? And when exactly had Ray-Ray's standards been lowered? Van's mother was a pretty woman. Self-absorbed, shallow, and unfaithful, but beautiful. Gretchen was beautiful. Why didn't he stay with her? Van knew she was interested. But no, he went out and found Nancy Jo. Just like he'd found Phyllis when Van was thirteen, and his mother was cheating with Van's math teacher. Phyllis was a waitress in a truck stop with nicotine stains on her fingers and bad breath. And there was Sandy, the loud redhead he'd brought around after the divorce when Van was sixteen. She had been a treat. She was never quite covered up. Her entire wardrobe seemed to consist of a few handkerchiefs sown together. She was an aspiring actress. Van saw her again when he was twenty-two when a guy he went to the Academy with got married, and someone brought some video entertainment to the bachelor party. She realized her dream, apparently. He'd left that party early; he wasn't feeling well.

"Van!"

He nearly jumped out of his skin. "What?"

"I said, leave all blinds open if at all possible. Please, guys, try to keep things moderately under control. I know the Fosters are bringing drugs. That's the whole point, but don't let anybody get killed here. Got it?"

"Van, tell her we got this. I've already tried several times. She ain't listening to me."

"We got this," Van offered without sufficient conviction to satisfy Deaq as he glared at Van.

"Okay, I'm out of here." She left them standing in the bedroom, Van holding his orange shirt that Deaq hated, and Deaq shaking his head.

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There were people everywhere. Deaq waded through the crowd, marveling at the ease with which the Fosters had taken over the house. They had said that they were bringing women, but this was ridiculous. There had to be over fifty women here. Add the various and sundry male friends that they had invited to "Van's house" and there was definitely a party going on. Vice would have had a field day with all the drugs floating around, but this wasn't their bust and in comparison to the 20 pounds of meth the Fosters would be going down for in a few days, this was truly small potatoes. In the meantime, though, Deaq knew no one and trusted no one that surrounded him. To say he was uncomfortable would be an understatement. He was wound tight.

It didn't help matters that he had not seen either of the Fosters in the last fifteen minutes at least. The last time he'd seen Gary the man was flipping steaks on the grill he and Alan had brought with them as a housewarming present for Van. Now, some other guy was there. Alan had been missing even before that. Come to think of it, where was Van? Damn it. He slipped out of the front door and pulled out his cell. He hit the speed dial to Billie.

"Yeah?"

"Where is everybody?" He didn't have to elaborate. She knew who he meant.

"Gary is upstairs in one of the bedrooms with the damn blinds closed, I might add. But the camera and microphones are working fine. Alan was on the back deck with Van a few minutes ago, but he's off the radar at the moment. I'm assuming that means he's in the bathroom. Van's still on the back deck. Okay, Alan's back on the radar. He's on his way upstairs. Hold on."

Deaq waited as she apparently determined what the man was up to.

"Deaq, he just interrupted Gary and told him he didn't want to miss the show. What show?"

"You're asking me? I don't know."

"They didn't arrange any special entertainment or anything? They didn't mention anything."

"No. I better get back in there. There's no telling what they're liable to do. Later." He hung up and went back into the house.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Van leaned against the railing on the back deck and watched some guy he had never seen before flipping steaks on "his" new grill. The Fosters had brought it with them and insisted that Van take it as a housewarming gift or they would be hurt. He frowned. He did not like these guys. Alan had just walked away from him moments before, and Van could not have been happier that he was gone. Gary seemed more dangerous, but Alan gave him the creeps.

Suddenly, a flame shot up from the grill causing the operator to jump back and several of the girl gaggle around him to giggle. But it wasn't funny. The guy was on fire. No…no, he wasn't. Wait, yes, he was. Van shook his head, hoping his eyes were playing tricks on him, but the action just made him dizzy, and the flames just seemed to spread. Now the deck was on fire too, and some of the girls too. But they were still laughing. Why were they laughing? Didn't they realize? Van opened his mouth to warn them; he tried to move to help them, but his voice would not work, and his legs seemed to weigh too much. Why wasn't anybody doing anything?

Where was Deaq? Deaq would put out the fire. Or maybe the fire had gotten him already. He looked around for his partner. He tried to call to him, but the result was barely a whisper. Van could feel the heat from the fire now, and his heart was racing in his chest. He had to get out of there.

But where was there? Where the hell was he? God, where was Abby? He couldn't let the little cat burn to death! This wasn't his house, though. Was it? This wasn't right. Nothing was right. Everything was wrong. The place was wrong; the people were wrong. The fire was spreading. All the wrong people in this wrong place were going to die. He had to move. He had to get away. He didn't want to die with them. He didn't even know them. They were still laughing.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Alan was coming down the stairs as Deaq reentered the house. He grinned as he approached and threw one arm over Deaq's shoulders.

"You know something? That partner of yours is one fine looking man. Shhh, don't tell Gary I said so. He doesn't like to be reminded that I swing both ways, if you know what I mean."

Deaq was astonished, not to mention worried. "I—um, okay."

Alan laughed a little. "You would prefer not to be reminded either, huh? Oh well." The guy was just a little drunk and a little more high.

"I don't think Van would like to find out at all," Deaq told him.

"Not open-minded, huh? Figures. I knew that though, I suppose. Then again, with a little help, he might be more open-minded than you think. Why don't we go see?"

Gary was coming down the stairs now, still buttoning his fly. A disheveled blonde came down behind him and kissed him once more before melting into the crowd. "Hayes! How's it going? Seen your partner lately? I hear he's having a great time."

Panic swept through Deaq, and he threw off Alan's arm and took off for the back deck. The brothers were laughing behind him as they followed. His phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket. He knew without looking it was Billie. "Yeah," he said, not slowing down.

"Something's wrong with Van."

"Yeah, gotta go." He hung up. He didn't know if Billie would call in the raid now or let him handle it. One way or another, he had to get to his partner. The brothers were still behind him as he stepped out onto the deck just in time to see Van stumble. He rushed forward to catch him then lowered him into a lounge chair. "Van?"

His partner's eyes were glazed over. He muttered something that Deaq couldn't make out; his words were so slurred.

Alan Foster sat down on the edge of the chair and ran his fingers through Van's hair. "He's much more pleasant this way, don't you think? Let's have some fun with him."

Deaq slapped the man's hand away. "What did you give him?"

"A little something I've been working on in the lab. A cocktail of sorts, but mostly, just good ol' vitamin K with a little DMT to kick it up faster and brighter."

"Jesus," Deaq whispered. "Van, stay with me."

"Deaq, man, he ain't with you. He's tripping in K-land." Gary laughed, and Deaq saw red.

He spun on the man. "Get out."

"Hey, Deaq, we were just trying to help him relax. He's wound up so tight. You know, those personal issues he's got going on. We wanted to him help him forget for a little while. That's all. He'll see some pretty colors and feel no pain, man. Chill out."

"No, get out. Get out now." He was probably blowing the case to hell and back, but he didn't care. The bastards had drugged his partner. "All of you!

Get out! Party's over!" The cavalry wasn't coming apparently, which was probably for the best. He'd have to be rounded up with the rest, and he had no intention of leaving Van alone. Not even for a minute. "Get your asses out and take your friends with you," he instructed the Fosters. He pulled out his phone once again and started to call 911, but Gary Foster grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing, man?"

"I'm calling an ambulance."

"Deaq, dude, you get doctors involved, then they get the police involved."

Deaq was going to punch the son of a bitch if he didn't get the hell out. "Well, I guess I'll have to deal with that, won't I? Thanks to you."

"He'll be fine," Alan Foster spoke up. He reached out to touch Van again.

"Touch him again, and I'll kill you where you stand."

Alan looked to his brother then pulled back from Van. "Maybe it would be better if we go now, Gary. Deaq is a little upset."

"Yeah. We'll round everybody up and get them out of here for you, Deaq. And tomorrow, when things look a little clearer, and Van's back from his trip, all rested and healthy, you call us. We still have business to attend to, right?"

"Oh, we have business all right. The nature of that business depends on Van."

Gary Foster smiled at him and walked away. Alan followed him. Deaq turned his attention back to Van and the phone in his hand. Before he could get his 911call through, however, the phone rang. Billie.

"Yeah."

"How is he?"

"Out of it."

"I called an ambulance already."

"Thanks."

"People are leaving. When they're gone, I'll be there."

"Yeah." Deaq ended the call and just sat there with his partner. He should have known, damn it. He should have figured the Fosters were planning something. Gary Foster didn't like Van. Alan Foster might like him too much. That thought made Deaq a little queasy.

Van was mumbling, but Deaq couldn't make out any real words. He kept blinking his unfocused eyes then turning his head as though trying not to see whatever it was that he was seeing. Deaq knew that what Alan Foster referred to as vitamin K was ketamine, but he didn't remember what DMT was. Ketamine was an anesthetic that caused hallucinations; that was bad enough.

Billie arrived just as Deaq began to hear the sirens. "Oh, Van," Billie sighed as she sat down on the edge of the chair that Alan Foster had been perched on.

"What the hell is DMT? I can't remember."

"Hallucinogenic, short-acting but powerful. The ketamine is what's keeping him down. I have no idea what combining the two can do to someone."

"Shit."

"Think this is what happened to Cecil's and Maxie's boys?"

"Or something similar? I would put money on it. Evidently, these little bastards like to play with people."

"I told you not to underestimate them, Deaq."

"Could you save the 'I told you so's' please?"

Medics rushed in and Deaq found himself shoved off to one side. If Van did not come out of this whole, somebody was going to pay.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The nurse was running toward them. That could not be a good sign. "The doctor needs you." She didn't wait for a response. She didn't need to; Deaq was already on his feet, with Billie close behind. They crashed through the ER doors, and she waved them over to an exam room. Her waving was not needed, however. As soon as they hit those swinging doors, they could hear Van screaming.

"Dear God," Billie gasped. They had Van in restraints, but he was still fighting.

"Talk to him; see if you can get through to him," the doctor instructed over Van's incoherent ranting.

Deaq moved to Van's bedside. He took his partner's thrashing head in his hands and tried to make Van focus on his face. "V, come on now, listen to me, whatever it is, it's not real. You hear me, Van? It's not real." He turned to the doctor. "What the hell is this? He's burning up."

"The blood tests aren't back, but you said it was a drug cocktail, right?"

"Yeah."

"Para-methoxyamphetamine is a hallucinogen that raises body temperature. It's similar to ecstasy. Possibly part of the cocktail. We're in for a long night, folks."

Van was still struggling under Deaq's hands. Deaq could make out only two words: burning and fire. Did Van think he was burning? Was it fire he was seeing in his drug-induced visions? "Oh Jesus, Van, I'm sorry."

Five hours later, the room was quiet. Van had slipped into a restless sleep just an hour before. Deaq leaned back on the wall behind him. He had given Billie the only chair and thus had ended up on the cold tile floor. He was bone tired. He never had gotten through Van's hallucinations to calm his partner, and his doctor couldn't give him anything to end them either, not with all the other drugs running through his system. His situation was precarious enough already. Van had finally just succumbed to exhaustion.

"Deaq, should we try to get in touch with Ray-Ray?" Billie asked, breaking the long silence in the room.

"Oh shit, I guess so. Do you have a number?"

"No. You?"

"No."

"Great. I'll start looking. I can't even put out an APB on the son of a bitch. We want him here, not in lockup." She dragged herself from the chair. "Call me if anything changes."

"I will."

"Now you can have the chair," she half-smiled at him before leaving him with his unconscious partner.

Deaq groaned as he struggled up from the floor to nearly fling himself into the hard plastic chair. "God, Van. Billie was right. I underestimated them." He leaned back and let his head drop to his chest. "What a fucked up night."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ray-Ray blew into Van's room less than an hour later. Billie came in behind him.

"What the hell happened?" Ray demanded.

Deaq stood up to face his partner's father. "Look, Ray-Ray, I'm sorry. We were separated at the party, and they managed to drug him. I don't even know how."

"Who?"

"No, not goin' there, man. You aren't going after them. We are going to take them down, Ray-Ray. Let us do it."

The man turned away from Deaq then and went to Van's bedside. "Damn," Deaq heard him whisper.

"The doctor says he'll be okay. He may have some flashbacks, and it may take a couple of days before he feels completely normal." Deaq explained.

"Shit. I knew he'd get hurt. I knew when he became a cop, he'd get hurt."

"Like he would've been safe if he'd followed in your footsteps and became a counterfeiter? Yeah, I can see how that would have been better. Prison would really agree with Van, I'm sure." Billie stepped forward as she spoke.

Deaq had never seen Ray-Ray really angry. The old man seemed to always be so cool under pressure, but now he was mad. He spun on Billie, and Deaq moved quickly to intervene. "Don't tell me what's good for my son!"

"Okay! Let's chill out," Deaq said.

"Oh, no, Deaq, let the 'Father of the Year' speak. Let's hear about how much he's done for his son. Let's hear about how the wonderful time they spent together every other Saturday from ten to two. Did he even see you THAT much when you weren't in prison? And where's the new step mom? She can weigh in on this, too, as long as we don't use big words. Oh, she's probably watching Jerry Springer. It's probably her episode after all. 'Bleach Blonde Bimbos with Big Boobs Bare All,' is that the right one? Or 'My One Brain Cell Died of Loneliness So I Had to Marry An Idiot?' Yeah, that's got to be the one."

"Billie, stop."

"Who the hell do you think you are? My life is none of your damn business!"

"Your son's life is my business. He's my responsibility."

"And you've done so well tonight, huh, Sweetheart?"

Deaq was now in the crossfire and was prepared for the punch that was surely coming. But it never did. Instead, their attention was turned back to the reason they were all there when Van stirred on the bed and started muttering again.

Ray-Ray's anger disappeared, and he shifted into father mode. He stroked Van's hair and softly shushed him, assuring him that everything was okay. Deaq watched in wonder. This was as odd as the anger. He couldn't help but remember that Van had told him that Ray-Ray was gone for quite a bit of his life. Van said that father-son moments were few and far between, most of them happening when Ray-Ray decided to train Van as a counterfeiter when he was a teenager. Of course, then his father went back to prison and Van decided to become a cop effectively ending what little contact they had had until they asked for his help on the Salgado case. Van had always figured that his father put him last in his life, but all Deaq saw now was a caring father. He wondered if Van had ever seen this Ray-Ray.

A disgusted noise from Billie caught his attention. He motioned for her to chill. She threw up her hands and stormed out of the room. He followed her out.

"Billie."

"What? Surely you're not buying that? Please, he's making a good show of it right now, but when Van's okay, he'll be right back to the same selfish son of a bitch he's apparently always been. Van should just—"

"Write him off. I know you said that before, but you know that's not going to happen."

"Well, a girl can dream. I'm going for coffee. If I stay in there, I'll end up losing my dinner."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Fire and Ice

Wesv (Way-suh)

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, but boy, if I did! Not making or even hoping to make any money…This is old hat for everyone, right? Moving on…

Notes: This takes place a few months after the series ended and follows my story On the Rocks. Though it builds on a fact from that story, it does stand alone. You don't absolutely have to read On the Rocks to understand this one. In fact, just know that Van buys a house a few blocks off the beach in Venice at the end of On the Rocks, and you're caught up.

Thanks to my beta, prplerayne and Jy. You've been a tremendous help!

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Part 3

Billie was gone now. Deaq sat in the chair next to Van's bed as Ray-Ray stalked the room. Van tried to move only to be brought up short by the soft cuffs that restrained him. He muttered something, and a sound too close to a sob not to twist Deaq's stomach in knots came as Van pulled on the cuff on his right wrist.

"Why the restraints?"

Deaq looked up. "He was freaking out. They couldn't calm him down. I think he thought he was on fire. They were just trying to keep him from hurting himself."

"Well, he's not freaking out now. I'm taking them off." The man moved swiftly to the bed and started unbuckling the soft restraints on Van's ankles and wrists.

"Ray-Ray, we don't know how he's going to be when he wakes up, man."

"I think we can handle it."

Deaq didn't argue with him. He hadn't liked seeing Van tied down anymore than his father did.

"So, share your boss lady's opinion?"

"Which one?" Deaq asked, although he knew. He was stalling. What could he say?

"'Father of the Year.'"

"Man, what do you want me to say? You were in jail or on the run most of his life, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Although, he did live with me a few times when his mother was too busy to take care of him, and I was in one place for a while. He ever tell you about his mother?"

"No, other than to say that if I thought you were bad, I should wait until I met her."

The man actually chuckled. "Teresa is a very beautiful, very self-centered, and very sexually active woman. Van caught her with his baseball coach when he was maybe eight or nine. Later, around thirteen or fourteen, he walked in on her with his math teacher. That was one of the times that he came to live with me. You know, I was still married to her then? We didn't actually divorce until he was almost sixteen. We just lived apart and acted divorced. She had the baseball coach, the math teacher, that bastard Teddy got rid of, the plumber and whoever else came along, and I had my women too. Van has never liked any of them, mine or hers. Well, except for Frank. Frank treated him good. Better than his mother. Sometimes I think I should look the guy up and thank him for that since I was in prison then and couldn't be there. In fact, I know he sent Van money when he was in college. Of course, Teresa managed to run him off eventually too. As a family, we sucked." He looked straight into Deaq's eyes then. "But I do love my son."

"I know you do. He loves you too, you know?"

"Yeah. In spite of what I am. And in spite of himself, I think. Sometimes I think he would really like to forget I exist. I know I would if I were him."

If Ray wanted a response, he wasn't going to get one, because Deaq's mind had focused in on something the man had said. "Hold up. When who was in college?"

"Van." Ray-Ray looked at him strangely. "You didn't know?"

"No! Mister 'I don't test well' sort of neglected to mention he went to college. He doesn't, like, have a degree, does he? I mean, I can see him not talking about it if he dropped out or something."

"No, he didn't drop out. He has a degree in criminal justice with a minor in criminal psychology."

"Excuse me?"

Ray-Ray chuckled. "He probably thinks I never bothered to find out what he was studying, but I did. I know why he studied that, too. He was trying to figure me out." He shook his head.

"Van has a degree?"

"Yeah," Ray-Ray sounded indignant. "Problem here?"

"He just never said anything. I mean, he even claimed that he didn't test well when an IQ test was mentioned once."

"Van doesn't like tests. In particular, he hates math. He has a learning disability in math. Of course, to determine that, they tested him over and over and over. Poor kid was sick of it and ready to give up by the time they finally decided that he qualified for extra help. So he doesn't want to take any tests that he doesn't have to. You can understand that. As for IQ, he's above average, just a few points shy of genius level. I remember that little meeting with his teachers. 'Donnie is a gifted child, but the emotional instability in his home life is hindering him.' Like I said, as a family, we sucked."

Deaq was stunned. He knew Van was no dummy, but a few points shy of genius? With a frigging degree? Damn. Good thing they didn't take that IQ test. And no wonder Van understood the criminal mind so well; he'd studied it. Explained Van's knowledge of the campus too. He had known just where the Science building was and even what the labs were like. Deaq shook his head.

But how had Van ended up just an officer? With a degree, he could have entered the force with rank. Then it hit him—all the numbers on the exams. Van's disability would make the various exams difficult for him. Knowing Van, he would not have told anyone, so no accommodations would have been made for him. Would Van have even tried the exams with his disability? He'd have to talk to his partner about that when things were back to normal.

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Someone was touching his face. It might have been pleasant had he recognized the voice that accompanied the hand. As it was, it was too intimate and just a bit creepy for someone to be touching him that way. He focused on the words. Maybe it was someone he knew and he just needed to remember who. The words might give him the information.

"—are just so sexy. If only I'd met you before your dad. Then again, what he doesn't know—"

Oh shit, he did know that voice, however brief their acquaintance had been. Not brief enough really. He seriously needed to get her hands off him. God, she was making a pass at him, suggesting—he was going to be sick. Why the hell was he not stopping her already? What the hell was she doing in his house anyway? How'd she get in? Why were his hands not shoving her away yet? Why were his eyes refusing to open? Damn it, move, Van, he scolded himself. It took him a moment to realize that he had indeed followed his own order. His eyes met hers even as he wrapped his hand around her wrist and pushed it away from him. That was when he realized that he was not home. Yet again. This was getting old. Wait, this was a hospital room. Okay, what to address first? She was reaching for him again. That answered that question.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get off me."

"I was just trying to—"

"You were coming on to me. You are married to my father, whatever your name is."

"Nancy Jo, but you can call—"

"Oh, for god's sake, don't say it! Leave me alone. Where's my father? Or Deaq? Where's Deaq?"

"They went down to get some coffee."

"Well, you can go with them." He sat up and fought off a wave of dizziness and pain that shot through his head.

"Ray-Ray wanted me to stay with you."

"I want you to go."

"But—"

"Go!"

"What's going on?" Deaq appeared in the doorway.

"Get her out of here, Deaq, " Van pleaded.

"Um, Nancy Jo, could you give us a minute here?"

"Where's Ray-Ray?" she asked quietly.

"He stopped by the nurses' station. Just go please. Tell him I need a minute with Van."

"Okay." She moved out of the room, tossing Van a pathetic look just before she disappeared.

"She's gone, V. You know you're going to have to get used to her eventually if you see your dad at all."

"No, I don't. I won't, and I won't have to. She was touching me, and saying how sexy I was, and what Dad didn't know... What does that sound like to you?"

"Eww."

"Precisely. Now, tell me why I'm in the hospital."

"You don't remember?"

"No. Would I ask if I did? Nothing's broken, and, with the exception of my head, which is trying to explode, I'm not in pain. What's going on?"

"Remember what we were doing last night?

Van thought about that for a moment. "Not really," he answered. "Oh wait, um, I remember being at someone's house. There were a lot of people. The Fosters, that's it. It was supposed to be my house, the party. Okay, how did that end with me here with a hangover?"

"It's not exactly a hangover, Van. They drugged you."

"What?"

"Still don't remember?"

Van's temper was rising. How dare those little bastards! "Okay, what was it?"

"A cocktail so we don't know what all was in there, but the main ingredient was ketamine. So if you start seeing weird things, that's why."

"Flashbacks. Great. I'm going to kill them both." Slowly, painfully, he added silently.

"What are you going to do about Nancy Jo?"

Van put his plans for the Foster brothers' deaths aside. Yes, he needed to handle the Nancy Jo problem first. "What do you think? Do I tell Dad or not?"

"I don't know, V. That's kinda sticky. How will he take it?"

"Beats me. This is a new one. I've had to tell him a lot of shit before but never that his wife was coming on to me. But he has the right to know, I guess." Van ran one hand through his hair and moved to get out of bed. He stopped, however, as he saw something out of the corner of his eye. "Um, Deaq, are the curtains on fire?"

"No, Van, there's no fire. I think that's what you kept seeing last night, though. You were really freaked out and talking about stuff burning."

"Damn. Afraid of fire, Deaq, ever since I was little kid."

"Oh man, V. I'm sorry. I should have realized they were up to something."

Van shook his head. "You didn't do it, and besides, I should have realized it too. Fire's gone now. I'm okay. Except I have to tell Dad."

"Tell Dad what?"

Speak of the devil himself. And his concubine. Van frowned. She was looking at him with that same pathetic look as when she left the room. Maybe she thought that if she looked pitiful enough he wouldn't say anything. "Dad—how do I say this?"

"Ray," she started, and they all turned to look at her, "Van made a pass at me."

"What? Are you out of your mind?" Van demanded. "Dad, that is not true. When I woke up, she was touching me and saying something about what you didn't know—you can finish that statement. She was saying I was sexy and how she wished she met me first."

"So you made a pass at her?" His father's voice was hard and colder than Van had ever heard it.

"No. I pushed her away and told her to get out."

"Ray, he was the one who said those things. I left to find you to get away from him."

"Naw, no way, Ray-Ray, Van hates her. You know that, man. You saw that. Hell, Ray, you said yourself that he's never liked any of your women. Trust me when I say to you, he don't like this one either!"

Van was grateful that Deaq took over. He had been rendered speechless by the bimbo's claims. He simply could not say anything as he stared at her with his mouth hanging open in shock.

"So my wife is a liar?"

"Come on, Ray-Ray. Think about this. How long have you known her? A few weeks maybe? Van is your son."

"Let's go, Nancy Jo." Van lowered his head as his father took her by the arm and led her toward the door.

"Ray-Ray! What the hell happened to the man I saw last night, man! Van is your son, damn it!"

"He's fine now. We'll just be going." And he was gone.

"Wait a damn minute!" Deaq yelled and started out the door.

"Deaq, leave it, man. It's okay."

"It is not okay!" Deaq whirled around to face Van again. "How can you say it's okay?"

Van shrugged.

"You knew he'd react this way."

"No, I didn't, but I figured it was a possibility."

"But you were going to tell him anyway?"

"Yeah, until I was sideswiped by the bitch."

"Jesus."

"When can I get out of here?"

"Damn, your dad was supposed to be finding that out."

"I want to go now. Where are my clothes?"

"Just chill until I can find the doctor. You need to know what to expect over the next few days. He said it would take that long for you to get back to normal."

Van sighed and raised his hand to comb through his hair once more. That was when he noticed something. "Why are there bruises on my wrists?"

"Oh shit, V, they had to restrain you so you wouldn't hurt yourself or anybody else."

That did it. "Find that doctor. I have to beat some Wonder Bread ass."

"Gotcha." Deaq left then, leaving Van to contemplate just who he'd like to kill first, the Fosters or his dad.

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"Okay, you can't kill them," Deaq repeated. "Rough 'em up, okay, but no death. And not too much roughing up. We still need to make the deal." He followed his still pissed off partner into the science building where Deaq had set up a meet.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don't see why I can't kill 'em. Accomplishes the goal."

"Van—"

"I said, yeah, okay. No killing them. But definitely some roughing up." With that, he flung open the door to the lab, and before Deaq got inside the room, Alan Foster was against the wall hanging by his throat, his feet several inches off the floor. Gary was keeping his distance, his hands up in the air as Van's gun was leveled at his head. "You know something? I don't like being drugged. I mean, I really don't like being drugged. I sell the shit; I don't take it. Hear me, boys? I don't take it. Now, my associate over here keeps reminding me that if I kill you, we lose a substantial amount of money. Believe me when I say to you that that money is the only reason you two are still breathing. So despite the fact that I'd really, really like to kill you right now, I think we still have a deal to see through. Am I correct in saying that?"

Alan tried to nod, as Gary answered, no small amount of fear in his voice, "Yeah, man. Sure, no problem. Just chill, man. We were just having some fun, dude. Sorry."

Van dropped Alan Foster who doubled over to hold his throat. "Fun?"

"Van," Deaq said quietly, stepping up to touch his partner's shoulder, "that's enough. I think they get the idea."

"He thinks that was fun, Deaq." Van looked incredulous. "Did you think that was fun, Deaq?"

"No, man, but just think about the money. Once we get the shit, we don't ever have to see these guys again."

"I don't think that was fun."

"Van."

Van shook his head and let Deaq take over from there.

"We are still on for tomorrow afternoon, right?"

"Sure." It was Alan that answered then.

"Good. However, given the circumstances, I don't think it would be wise to spend any more time together than absolutely necessary. So we'll be going now, and we'll see you tomorrow at noon right here. Let's go, Van."

Van glared at the brothers again but followed Deaq out. They were in the car once again before Deaq decided to speak. "Remind me never to really piss you off, V."

Van made a face at him but said nothing

"Are you okay?" Deaq asked him.

"Yeah, just lovely. Having a great life right now, thanks for asking." He slunk down in the passenger's seat. "Are you going to drive or just sit there looking at me?"

"I'm going to drive. And don't get all pissy with me because you can't drive right now. Can't have you behind the wheel if you have a flashback."

"Yeah, yeah, just take me home, please."

"Can't. You need to stay at the house until this case is over." Deaq cranked the car and pulled out of the parking space.

"Great, I was kinda hoping it really did burn down. No such luck though. Now I get to go stay in a fish bowl house."

"Fish bowl house?" he asked as he turned into traffic.

"All windows, like being in a fish bowl."

"Ah. I could stay with you."

"No, don't worry about it. I'm a big boy."

"Really, maybe I should. You might have problems. The doctor did say you didn't need to be alone for—"

"Fine, whatever."

"And you and me need to talk."

"What?"

"I know, I know, me wanting to talk, strange, but I think we should."

"About what?"

"Lots of things."

Van was eyeing him suspiciously. "I don't think I want to."

"No way, partner. Not getting out of this."

"Shit." Van actually managed to slink down even farther into the seat. He was pouting, Deaq realized. Too bad. There were things Deaq wanted to know, and he meant to find them out. Tonight.

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Deaq handed Van a bottle of water then settled down on the couch with his beer.

"Water? You get beer; I get water?"

"Um, I wasn't drugged last night. You know what the doctor said."

"Not liking you right now."

Deaq chuckled. "Just sit down. Relax a little. This isn't an interrogation, you know."

"No, I don't know. After nearly a year, you suddenly want to talk. Either you are about to tell me something I really don't want to know, or you want me to tell you something that I don't want to tell. So, which is it?"

"Van, sit." Deaq gestured toward a metal and leather contraption that vaguely resembled a chair.

"This thing is ugly," he said even as he sat down in it. "So, which is it?"

"Ray-Ray and I had some time to talk, you know, while you were out."

"So? What? What'd he say?"

"Why didn't you tell me you had a degree?"

"Never came up." There was relief on Van's face as he sat back in this chair.

"Hmm, okay. Why the 'I don't test well' thing then?"

"I don't test well. I was telling the truth."

"Because you have a learning disability."

"He told you that?"

"Yeah."

Van closed his eyes. "So, what of it?"

"That's why you've haven't taken the detective's exam, isn't it? Why you didn't enter the force with rank?"

Deaq watched his partner draw one hand over his face. He sighed, "Yeah. So?"

"I can help you. And you know that they have to make accommodations for that sort of thing, right?"

"I know."

"But you'd have to tell them, and you don't want to." It wasn't a question. He didn't need to ask a question. He didn't need to get an answer either. "Does Billie know?"

"No. Of course not. At least I don't think so. If she knows, she never said."

Deaq nodded.

"Are we done now?"

"I want to help."

"Then leave it alone." Deaq was about to protest, but Van cut him off. "For now. Let me think about it, okay?"

"For now then. Now tell me something else. What is it about fire that freaks you out so much?"

Deaq could actually see the tremor pass through his partner's body. He reached down and pulled up his left pants leg. "See this?" The scar was faint, but Deaq could make it out. He nodded, and Van went on. "Got that when fire destroyed Grandma Sarah's house. Ray-Ray had just gone to prison for the first time, and my mom started drinking, so her mom took me to live with her. It was sometime after midnight when the fire started. I remember waking up, and my covers were on fire already. What I don't remember is what started it. I made it out of the room, but Grandma ran in and tried to put out the fire. She wouldn't come out, Deaq. I called and called to her, but she just kept trying to use my blankets to smother the flames. When she collapsed, I went in after her."

"How old were you?"

"Five."

"Shit, V."

"Her nightgown caught on fire. I remember that. At some point so had my pajamas. That's where the scar came from. I managed to get her to the front door, and some neighbors came to help. The fire trucks were coming; I could hear the sirens. Grandma wasn't breathing though."

Deaq cringed and was suddenly sorry he asked. He was about to tell Van he could stop, but his partner went on before he could.

"She lived. The firemen saved her, but she spent a lot of time in the hospital. I ended up in foster care while they hunted mom down and waited for her to sober up. When she did, though, she did stay sober, so I guess that was a good thing. She had to take care of Grandma and me for a while. I tell you, though, Deaq, being on fire is scary as hell, and it hurts. You don't forget that."

"No, I don't suppose you do. I am so sorry, Van."

"Not your fault." Van gave him a weak, shaky smile.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, thanks."

"I really should quit, but there are a few other questions that Ray-Ray left me with."

"Damn it, what all did he say to you, man? Maybe I need to go get some fucking doughnuts and arsenic after all."

Two hours later, Deaq had perhaps a little more tipsy than he needed to be, and Van was yawning. As Van announced that he was going to take a nap, Deaq saluted him and lowered his own body down onto to the couch. A nap sounded good. He watched Van make his way up the stairs and marveled that the man was sane at all. He'd heard all about the strange succession of his mother's boyfriends and his father's girlfriends. Van even remembered all their names. He'd laughed at the story of Sandy, the aspiring actress, and was angry for Van's sake about J.D., the one that, according to both Van and Ray-Ray, Teddy got rid of. Just how Teddy did that, Van didn't know, and Deaq was pretty sure Ray-Ray wouldn't tell. At least the bastard hadn't been successful in his attempts to molest Van. Van was quick to tell him that he told his mother and Teddy right away and that the guy never got another shot at him. Of course, it was just as infuriating to Deaq that Van's mother didn't believe him.

Van smiled when he talked about Frank. Frank had taught him to play the bass and everything that Van knew about cars. He still got a Christmas card from the man, who had moved to Oregon and married a nice woman. Frank seemed to Deaq to be the only spot of normalcy in Van's life.

Eventually, Van had let Deaq move him back to the subject of his learning disability. He was amazed at Van's coping skills and was more determined than ever to help Van take and pass that detective's exam. Deaq felt his eyes drifting closed and let them.

He would never be sure exactly what woke him. There might have been some noise, but all he could really identify was a vague uneasy feeling that brought him out of a dream of broken images that really made no sense at all. He sat up and rolled his head on his shoulders, then stood and stretched. It was after midnight, he noted as he moved past the clock over the fireplace. He took the stairs slowly and approached the bedroom where he knew he would find Van. He definitely heard something then. He pushed open the door and discovered his partner in the midst of a nightmare.

Deaq moved swiftly to the bed, catching Van's flailing hands as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Shhh, it's okay, Van. Van, wake up." But his partner was still trying to pull away from his grasp, muttering about burning and fire. He even called for his grandmother once, which had Deaq struggling with his own emotions. Had his questions actually brought this on?

"Van!" he raised his voice in the hopes of reaching Van through the nightmare images. Van's eyes did open, but he was still trapped in the dream. He continued to fight Deaq's hold, and Deaq was finally forced to literally wrap himself around his panicked partner. He pinned Van's arms to his chest to keep him from leaving the bed. The two of them ended up lying on their sides while Deaq continued to try to talk Van back to reality. After several minutes, Van settled in his arms, seemingly falling back into deep sleep. Deaq waited about ten more minutes then carefully disentangled himself and leaving the bed. He wandered out of the room and into one of the other bedrooms. He tossed his body onto the bed and closed his eyes.

He tried to relax, but couldn't. He realized it was because he was too focused on listening for Van's next nightmare. Sighing, he got up and stripped the bedclothes from the bed. He dragged them behind him as he made his way back into Van's room. He eyed the floor then the king-sized bed. He had planned to pile up the sheets, pillows, and comforter on the floor, but that bed called to him. It was easily big enough for both of them. Van was all the way to one side of the bed leaving the other free. He tossed the sheets, taking with him his pillows and the comforter to that empty side. He situated the pillows the way he wanted, then wrapped the comforter around himself and carefully lay down, trying not to jostle the sleeper on the other side.

The next thing he was aware of was the morning sun peeking through the vertical blinds. Glancing next to him, he saw that Van was still sleeping. He quietly left the bed and the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He padded down the stairs and hunted up his cell phone. He found it and looked up at the clock. Damn, they were late, and yes, there was a missed call from Billie on his phone. He speed-dialed their boss. "Hey Billie." He was cut off as Billie started bitching at him. "I know, I know. Look, I'll come by and get the money and the wire. I'm going to let Van sleep."

"You could have at least called me, damn it!" she insisted.

"We were asleep. Billie. I'm sorry. We had a rough night. He had a nightmare, or maybe flashback would be more accurate, last night. I mean after that he seemed to sleep okay, but I don't know how he was doing before."

"He's sleeping okay right now though?"

"Yeah, seems to be. Anyway, I'm on my way."

"How's he going to get here? He can't drive."

"Yeah, I know he can't drive. I'll swing back by here and get him. I'll handle getting him wired, and that way he doesn't have to come into the Candy Store. First though, I have to go by my place and get some clean clothes. I'll be at there by 10:30. That'll be plenty of time to get back to Van, get him wired and get to the university. How's that?" She bitched a little more but finally said that his plan would work. "Good, see you in a bit." After hanging up, he went in search of something he could write a note on for Van. He located a paper bag and pen, then wrote:

_Van, _

_Had to go get money. Be back soon. Do NOT leave here. You know you can't drive. I mean it, V. Do NOT leave._

_Deaq_

He debated where to put it and decided that on the bed right next to Van would be best. Once that was done, he slipped out the door and headed to his place for a shower and clean clothes.

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Van shifted so that he was lying on his back. He was somewhere in that odd place between asleep and awake when he got the sensation of being watched. Dream or real, he wondered. He distantly remembered thinking the house was on fire yet again last night. This feeling could be drug-related too. Or not. He'd have to open his eyes to be sure. He could tell it was daylight from behind his eyelids so he'd have to get up soon anyway. Okay, he decided, I'll open my eyes. He blinked and focused and immediately wished that he had remained asleep.

"Hello, Van. Rise and shine. We have a drug deal to finalize." Alan Foster was standing at the end of the bed. Two rather big men flanked him. This was going to go badly, Van thought as he rubbed his eyes and sat up.

"Where's Deaq?" He knew his partner had stayed the night, so where was he now?

"Oh, he left you this note. It was right on the pillow there." Foster waved a piece of what might have been a paper bag. "He says, 'Had to go get money…' yadda, yadda. That's the only important part as far as I'm concerned. He did say that he didn't want you to leave, but I think we are going to have to disappoint him on that one. Get dressed; we're leaving."

"Could I possibly get a shower first?"

A look of predatory delight crossed Alan Foster's face and made Van suddenly not want that shower after all. What the hell was that about? "Certainly. Of course, you'll understand that I'm not comfortable with leaving you alone. You're a dangerous man, Van. Can't have you getting your hands on a weapon."

Oh, so not going to happen. "Never mind. I'll get one later."

"Suit yourself."

Van frowned as he got up and grabbed his jeans from the floor, his hands searching his pockets for his cell.

"Looking for this?" His cell was in Foster's hand. "You won't be needing it for a while."

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. He could try to run. He glanced at his visitors. They hovered too close. Half-dressed and with no shoes, he didn't stand a chance of getting away. A few minutes later, and at least with his shoes in hand, he let himself be shoved into a rented van as Gary Foster pulled up in front of the house in his Jag. As the goons tied his hands and feet, Gary peeked into the van at him.

"I'll meet Deaq here, just so he'll know you're okay. Wouldn't want him to think you were driving in your compromised condition."

Alan grinned as he climbed into the driver's seat. This was definitely going badly.


	4. Chapter 4

Fire and Ice 

Wesv

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, but boy, if I did! Not making or even hoping to make any money…This is old hat for everyone, right? Moving on… 

Notes: This takes place a few months after the series ended and follows my story On the Rocks. Though it builds on a fact from that story, it does stand alone. You don't absolutely have to read On the Rocks to understand this one. In fact, just know that Van buys a house a few blocks off the beach in Venice at the end of On the Rocks, and you're caught up.

Thanks to my betas, prplerayne and Jy. You've been a tremendous help!

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Part 4 

Surprisingly, Billie didn't bother to bitch at him anymore when he arrived to pick up the money and wire. He checked his watch as he pulled into the driveway of Van's borrowed house. He had plenty of time. He was feeling pretty good until he saw the sports car in front of the house. Then he saw Gary Foster. The man waved at him, smiling congenially. "Shit, shit, shit," Deaq mumbled. This was not good. He couldn't get Van wired up with the fucking mark standing over him. So much for that then. Billie would not be thrilled. He stopped the car and got out.

"Hey, Gary. Thought we were meeting at the university."

"Change of plans. Grab the money. We'll go in my car."

"Okay, let me get Van."

"Oh, Van's not here. Alan picked him up earlier."

Deaq nearly stumbled in shock. "What?

"Yeah, we needed to take some precautions. I'm sure you understand. Grab the money. We don't want to be late, do we? Trust me, Van doesn't want us to be late."

Fifteen minutes later, as Gary stood explaining Egyptian history in front of a locked freezer, Deaq's mind raced. They'd drugged Van again, this time with a sedative, and locked him in a freezer. He'd underestimated them again. An hour, Van had about an hour. He followed Gary out of the lab and down the stairs. The next several minutes passed in a slow-moving blur. He was in the car with Gary, and the man was still talking, but about what Deaq was not sure. His mind was back in that lab on his partner.

"Hey! Deaq, you with me?"

"What?"

"Relax, man. Everything will be fine as long as all our money is in that case you're holding and no cops show up. I'll give you the combination and you can get him out, warm him up, and then the two of you can proceed to make lots and lots of money. It'll all be over. Then next time, we won't need to go through all this. We'll trust each other."

I may let Van kill you, you son of bitch, Deaq thought.

Gary turned into the marina and stopped by an open dock where small boats put in the water. He got out of the car, grinning at Deaq as he followed suit. They made their way out onto the dock. "There he comes," Gary announced.

Deaq looked out to where Foster was pointing. He could see a small speedboat moving toward them. His eyes then searched the surrounding area for signs of Billie and the assault team.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Where the hell is Van?" Billie said aloud, lowering the binoculars. She picked up her radio. "Get ready, people. That's our guy coming in on the boat."

"Where's your other man?" came the question from Lt. Mullins.

"I have no idea. But we don't have a choice. We have to move ahead with the bust. Wait for my signal." She saw Deaq glance in her direction, but he was too far away to get a read on his expression. She could only hope that Van was all right.

She watched while the boat docked, while Deaq opened the case with the money inside and showed it to Gary Foster, while Deaq caught a bag filled with something she knew would be meth. "Go," was all she said. She moved quickly, stepping onto the dock first. "Police! Freeze!" She took in the pained look on Deaq's face, and her heart skipped a beat. Even as Deaq's hands went up in surrender, she realized that somehow Van was going to be paying a price for this bust. She was so preoccupied with her worries that she nearly missed the fact that Gary Foster had produced a gun. One of the assault team got him first though.

"No!" Deaq screamed, but it was too late. Gary Foster was dead before he hit the ground. Alan Foster knew it too. He gunned the boat, slamming into the dock in his haste, nearly knocking Deaq and Billie off their feet. More of the team poured onto the dock and began firing toward the boat. "No! Stop!" Deaq was still screaming. He rushed Mullins and nearly tackled the man. "Alan!"

"Deaq! Where's Van?" Billie spun him around.

"Fuck!"

"What? What is it?"

"We have to get back to the university, and we'll need the safe cracking stuff."

"Deaq!" She was getting frustrated.

"They locked him in a freezer, Billie. It has a combination lock. Get the damn safe cracking stuff and meet me back at the university, or Van's dead." He left her standing there and got into Gary Foster's car.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Paramedics were standing there; Billie was fiddling with the equipment, and Deaq was pacing. It was nearly twenty minutes past Gary Foster's one-hour mark.

"Got it!" Billie exclaimed, tossing the little computer aside and snatching the door open. Deaq ran past her into the freezer, the paramedics right behind him. Van was blue, and ice particles had formed in his hair and even his eyelashes. He and one of the medics carried Van out while the other moved to their equipment. Deaq knelt by his partner and began to rub one cold arm.

"No. Don't do that. We have to get his core temp up."

"Is he…" He couldn't finish the question.

"He's not dead until he's warm and dead."

Somehow that was not very comforting. They loaded his still blue partner onto a stretcher and carried him out of the building with Deaq and Billie close behind. Billie drove. She weaved through traffic after the ambulance while Deaq practically held his breath, more over fear for his partner than Billie's driving, however.

This time, a familiar face met them at the ER. Dr. Grant, efficient as ever, took over Van's care, but he had them blocked at the door.

"I suppose I should try to get the jackass back up here." Billie grumbled.

"Yeah. I suppose so. He wasn't breathing. He was blue. Asshole or not, his father should have the opportunity to be here if he doesn't make it."

She wandered away to go call Van's father, leaving Deaq to pace. He should call his own family at some point. His parents thought the world of Van. He'd wait until he got some news though.

"The bastard's gone." Billie's voice caused him to jump a little. "He checked out of the hotel last night. I don't suppose you got a cell number?"

"No. Figures he'd bail."

"Well, I hate to say it but—"

"Then don't."

It was almost half an hour before Dr. Grant reappeared. "He has severe hypothermia. We've got him under a warming blanket, on warmed IV's, and intubated. The biggest risk right now is cardiac arrest. His core temp is still dangerously low. I'll let you know when we get him more stabilized." He was gone before either of them could respond.

"I should go call Parish to see if they managed to pick up Alan Foster," Billie announced.

"Yeah."

"Deaq, are you okay?"

"No, I'm not."

"This is not your fault. You couldn't have known."

"You told me not to underestimate them, and I did."

"I'm only going to say this once more. You couldn't have known. Hell, I would have never seen this coming. It's not your fault." She was waiting for a response, but Deaq didn't have one for her. "Okay, I'll be back. I'm going to call Parish."

He nodded and watched her as she walked outside to use her cell. No matter what she said, Deaq couldn't help running through everything that had gone wrong and how he could have prevented each incident.

Billie returned with coffee and news. "They haven't found Alan yet, but they picked up a guy driving his car. He claims to know nothing, but we have a receipt for a rental van with an address near the marina on it. It's in the warehouse district. We're checking it out. As for how they got to Van, they broke in the sliding glass doors in the back of the house."

"Deaq," Dr. Grant called out to him, then motioned him over. "He's semi-conscious at the moment and agitated. We removed the tube, but still have him on warmed oxygen. He's asking for you." Billie followed them back to the trauma room.

"Van, it's Deaq." He approached his obviously upset and once again restrained partner. "Why?" he asked, pointing to the restraints.

"We have to try to keep him from moving too much. We don't want the cold blood in his extremities to get back to his heart while he's this fragile. His temp is up a few degrees, but he's not out of the woods yet."

Deaq nodded and reached out to touch Van's forehead. "V, come on now, relax. Come on, partner. I'm here. Everything's okay now."

"De-deaq?" Van's voice was as slurred as it had been the night Deaq got him drunk. "Make'em leave me 'lone."

"They can't, V. You need help. I want you to let them help you, okay? You need to stay still. You hear me?"

"I wanna leave."

"No, Van, you have to stay. That's an order." Billie stepped up to the bed.

"Yes'ir." Van's eyes drifted closed.

"He's out again. We're going to be transferring him to ICU soon."

"Is he going to make it?"

"He's made it this far. Like I said, his heart is fragile at the moment. We have to be very careful with him. I really don't want to make any predictions right now."

Deaq bit his lip and lowered his gaze to the floor. He felt Billie's hand on his shoulder, but didn't turn. He didn't want to talk. He walked away, out of the ER to stand in the LA sunshine. It seemed impossible that the day was not long since over. He felt as though years had passed since he'd found out Van was in that freezer, rather than just hours. He pulled out his cell and called his parents.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Alan Foster watched Deaqon Hayes pace in front of the ER entrance. His hands gripped the steering wheel of his father's Mercedes until his knuckles turned white. Hayes hung up from his call and leaned against a post.

"You are going to pay, Hayes." Alan started the car and pulled out of the parking space. One hand drifted to the gun in the passenger's seat as he moved toward the building. Before he could reach his target, however, the man turned and went back inside. "Fuck! Okay, okay, you gotta come out of there eventually." He circled back around and pulled back into the space he'd just left a moment before. He could wait. He would wait. Then both of them would pay.

He'd had to tell his father that Gary was dead. The old man was more furious than heart-broken. Someone had killed his first-born son, and his second-born had run. That seemed to be his major concern. Of course, Alan didn't tell him they were in the midst of a drug deal when it happened. He'd find out, of that Alan was certain, but Alan hoped that he'd be long gone by then. He just had to take care of the two cops; yes, they were cops; that killed his brother.

He sank down in the seat, his eyes on the ER entrance. He'd be ready when his chance came. Everything was arranged.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Deaq shifted in the chair. His ass was hurting. Shifting didn't help so he got up. He took the two steps that would take him to Van's bedside. At least his partner wasn't quite as blue anymore. There was still a tinge of the unnatural color in Van's hands and face. He was in and out, more sleeping than unconscious, Grant said. When he was awake, he was disoriented and made little sense, often complaining that he was hot. The irony of that was not lost on Deaq. Grant explained that the warming blanket would feel hot to Van, as his body was so cold. As Deaq smoothed unruly hair back from Van's face, he noted an expression of pain cross his partner face. He reached for the call button. Was Van in pain? Was that normal? A moan caused Deaq's heart to speed up.

A nurse appeared and explained that yes, Van would be in some pain as his body warmed up, just as being extremely cold would cause anyone pain. Deaq nodded as she patted his shoulder before leaving the room.

"Deaq, you should go get something to eat." Billie entered.

Her words seemed to set off his hunger. Before he would have sworn he wasn't hungry. "Yeah."

"Your parents are here; they want to come back to see him."

They were only allowed in Van's room two at time, so Deaq would have to go out so they could come in, and now he was indeed very hungry. He touched Van's cold hand then joined Billie by the door.

"He'll be fine. He's going to be okay."

Deaq tried to smile, but it was half-hearted and so unsuccessful. He was pretty sure it looked more like a grimace than a smile. He made his way out of the ICU, surprised when Billie took his hand in hers. It wasn't romantic or anything. She was trying to be comforting, or perhaps she was seeking comfort. He wasn't sure. He didn't care.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was the strangest sensation. He was both hot and cold at the same time. He tried to throw off the heaviness on his chest, attributing the heat to it, but it wouldn't budge. He tried to raise his hand to fling it away only to find he couldn't raise his hand. Damn it, what was going on? He was freezing. His whole body shook so hard it was painful.

"Van, honey, open your eyes."

The voice was familiar, warm and kind. He couldn't possibly disobey. He focused on the face of Mrs. Hayes. "Hhhh-hh-ii." Well, that didn't come out very well. His teeth were chattering. This could only be a hospital, he noted as he looked beyond her for a moment. Great, again.

"Hey, baby." She smiled and Van found himself trying to imagine how it would have been to have this woman wake him up for school every morning as a child. He envied Deaq and Dre.

Deaq's father came into view. The man put his hands on his wife's shoulders, and Van's envy kicked up another notch. He knew better than to expect his own parents to make an appearance. But someone was missing.

"Dddd-eaq?"

"He went to get something to eat, honey. He'll be back. Your boss is here. Would you like us to get her?"

"Inna mmminute." He wanted to bask in the caring he saw and felt in the room for just a little while longer. He moaned involuntarily as muscles cramped from the cold.

"I should get the doctor." Mr. Hayes disappeared.

When Dr. Grant arrived, Van tried to hold the thermometer under his tongue. After all, it was either that or—well, Van didn't want to think about the other option, the one that Grant actually seemed to prefer. Van gave a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. Still, it was hard to hold the little stick in place, especially since he was afraid he was going to bite the thing in half between his chattering teeth. It was a good thing they stopped using those glass ones with the mercury.

The little machine beeped, and the stick was removed. "Okay, doing better. Still a few degrees below where you should be, but out of immediate danger. I'm going to get rid of these restraints. Shouldn't hurt to move around a little, but I want you to stay under that warming blanket. Clear?"

"Yyyeah. Umm, what 'xactly hhhap—pened?"

"You don't remember?"

"Last I 'member was be—ing fffforced to swal—low some nasty tttasting water."

"Yeah, the blood tests showed you were sedated. Well, it seems that somebody locked you in a freezer. You were clinically dead when you were brought in. However, with hypothermia, the rule is that no one is dead until he's warm and dead. You got lucky. Get some rest." Grant left then and Billie entered.

"Hey," he managed without a single stutter.

"Hey yourself. Deaq should be back soon."

Van nodded, not wanting to stutter through a verbal response. He was still shivering. Billie repositioned the blankets and touched his hand.

"You scared the hell out of us, you know?"

"Ddddidn't mmean to."

"I know." She smiled at him. He wouldn't be sure later when he'd dozed off. He hoped she wasn't talking about anything important.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Billie approached Dr. Grant a few minutes after Van drifted off to sleep. "So, how is he?"

"He's going to be okay. As long as he gets those last two or so degrees and manages to maintain them once we take away the warming blanket. He needs to stay warm though. He's vulnerable to a lot of things right now. Not the least of which is pneumonia."

Billie sighed and checked her watch. Deaq had been gone a long time now. She frowned. Where could he have gone? She knew he opted out on the cafeteria, mumbling something about not being able to stomach that food again so soon. By this time, he could have gone out to Venice and back. She found a payphone and called his cell.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

His phone was ringing. He lifted his head from his chest and glared at Alan Foster.

"Who do you suppose that is?" the man asked. "Hmm, caller ID says pay phone. We'll let them leave a voice mail and then find out. The only person we want to hear from right now is your partner."

Deaq flexed his rapidly numbing hands in the handcuffs that held him to the ancient metal chair. "Leave Van alone. He didn't shoot your brother. Thanks to you guys, he wasn't even there."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. There or not, both of you are responsible for Gary's death, and both of you are going to pay."

"You were cooking and selling meth. You created the situation that got Gary killed. You and Gary are responsible for Gary's death."

"Shut up. Just shut up! We had a good thing going! You screwed it all up! Gary, he knew you were cops. He kept saying that something wasn't right with you two. Well, he was right. So now, I'm going to do what he would do if he were here to two cops who fucked up our business! You and your partner are going to die. If he doesn't start looking for you soon, I'll just have to call him. Shouldn't be too hard to find, huh? Wonder if he'll even be able to try to come to your rescue."

"He was in no shape to come after me when I left, man."

"You think that's going to save him? Believe me, I'm not married to the idea of you both dying together. But I am married to the fact that somebody will die tonight. It can be just you, but I want him to think that he could have saved you if he could have gotten out of that hospital bed. Not true, of course, but he'd never know, would he? Then afterward, when he's just getting his life back together, I'll come back for him. Either way, he shows, you both die. He doesn't, you die now; he dies later. Works for me either way."

Alan Foster had lost his mind, Deaq decided. The man paced before him in the deserted warehouse. Deaq wondered if this was the warehouse on the rental slip. It really couldn't be. Billie had said they planned to stake out that warehouse.

The call was probably Billie. She'd start looking for him, at least. Could he really hold out much hope there though? Hell, he could be anywhere. If old man Foster owned the place, maybe they'd get around to looking here, but chances were Deaq would be dead by then. Still, even realizing that, he hoped Van never figured out he was missing and that he slept right through any calls to his hospital room.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Where's Deaq?"

Billie cringed at the question. She had really hoped that he wouldn't wake up. But he had, just as she was about to slip out of the room. What could she tell him? The truth did not seem like a good idea given the circumstances. She'd already had to tell Deaq's parents that she had put out an APB on their son. That had not gone over very well with Deaq's ex-cop father. Not to mention that the man obviously still had connections in the department, as he was at this very moment consulting with Parish and the task force hastily thrown together to search for his son. She was about to leave to do the same thing as well.

That would leave Van in the somewhat shaky hands of Mrs. Hayes. The woman was holding it together fairly well, but Billie had no doubt that if Van got wind of Deaq's disappearance, Cheryl Hayes would be no match for Van Ray on a mission.

She had sworn Mrs. Hayes and Dr. Grant to secrecy. Now she had to figure out how to make an exit without planting any seeds in Van's already suspicious mind. The job was her only hope. Van understood the job and its urgency.

"We got a lead on Alan Foster. He's following up on it. I'm on my way to back him up."

"Oh." The dejection in his voice was hard to hear. "You should go then. He shouldn't be out there by himself."

"Everything's going to be fine, Van. We'll get Foster. You just rest. Are you still cold? I could ask for another blanket on my way out."

"A little. Not much." He yawned.

"I'll ask them to bring another blanket. Try to sleep some, okay?"

"Yeah, just go. Deaq needs you."

More than you know, she thought. Outwardly though, she smiled and squeezed his toes through the two blankets already covering him. She left as he shifted onto his side and snuggled down further into the bed. She didn't like lying to him, but it was for his own good. She'd apologize later. Right now, she had to find his missing partner.

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"Damn it!" Foster kicked his duffel bag across the floor. Deaq watched as drugs and money spilled from it. "Why isn't he calling? Why? Huh? Answer me!"

"I told you, he was in no condition to come after me. Maybe you and your brother shouldn't have tried so damn hard to kill him. Maybe then he would be here by now. Of course, that means that you'd be joining your brother in hell, and we'd be going out for a beer."

Alan spun on him and put Deaq's own gun to his head. "Shut up. Just shut up." He nudged Deaq's head hard with the barrel then turned away again. He went back to pacing, rubbing his head with his free hand. "Okay, okay, we'll call him."

"He was in the ER and unconscious. Don't think you're going to get him."

"Ah-ah, that's where you're wrong. He should be thawed out pretty well by now, and remember, my drugs, so I know that won't be keeping him down. And they have phones in the ER cubicles now. Saw them when I had to take some bimbo of Gary's in when she OD'ed. That was a fucking mess. Yeah, gonna call him. I have plans for him. He's really hot, you know. No pun intended, given that he was nearly a popsicle earlier."

"Thought you could wait."

"Changed my mind. Yeah, let's call, shall we?" He dug Deaq's cell out of his pants pocket. "I'm going to have to call information for the number to the hospital though. Don't worry; you won't be alive long enough to have to pay for the extra charge."

Deaq closed his eyes and said a quick prayer that Van was asleep or that Billie would answer the phone. Or his mom or dad. Was it awful of him to hope that Van was still in restraints, or that Grant would catch him and put him back in restraints if he tried to leave? Please don't let Van walk into this, he begged whatever supreme being that might be listening.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ringing. Something was fucking ringing. Van tried to pull his pillow from under his head. He had to drown out that ringing. He had just gotten comfortable, damn it. He was finally warm. The pillow was being stubborn.

"Billie? Deaq?" he called. "Somebody?"

The ringing didn't stop, and no one showed to help. "Fuck," he muttered as he opened his eyes. A phone. It was a fucking phone. He reached out to try to grab it. It was just out of his reach. He stretched. He was not getting up, damn it. He managed to get two fingers on the stupid thing and pull it toward him. "What?" he demanded even before he had it to his ear.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Van! Hey, man, how're you doing? Feeling better?"

Deaq swore. His prayers evidently had not been answered.

"Yeah, well, here's the thing. I got Deaq here with me, and we just need you to make the party complete." Alan Foster paused, a grin spreading across his face as he listened to Van's response. "Looking forward to it, man! Okay, since I know you're not feeling too great right now and it might take you a bit to escape from the docs, I'll give you up to two hours to get here. That's pretty generous, don't you think? I mean, you can get here any time in that two hours without penalty. Sooner the better, of course, but just in case, two hours. Two hours and one minute and your friend here is dead. Clear? The address is 1573 Industrial Blvd. Warehouse 2. And if you show up with the blue lights flashing and unis crawling all over, he'll be dead before you can even get close to the building. Got that?" He hung up. "Now then, we wait for Van." Alan grinned at him.

"I hope he kills you. If he doesn't, rest assured, I will."

"Oh, now, that's not the way cops are supposed to do things. I believe you just threatened me, Officer Hayes. If that's your real name."

"It's Detective Hayes to you."

"I'm hurt. I thought we were friends, Deaq."

"You're insane."

Foster laughed. "Maybe so. So, are we having fun yet?"

Deaq ignored him.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Van found his clothes in a plastic bag on a shelf in the corner of the room. He shivered as he dressed in the slightly damp clothes. His cell phone was still missing. Fucking Alan Foster probably had it. He might have even called Van from it for all he knew. He had been taken from the fishbowl house without his gun too. He'd need a gun.

He debated calling Billie. He would, he decided, but only after he was there and could get to Deaq before the cavalry scared Foster into shooting. So, who to call, he wondered. Aquarius. He picked up the phone and called Deaq's uncle or cousin, whatever he was. Van had never been sure. He just knew that somehow his partner was related to the big man.

"Aquarius, can you pick me up…" he thought quickly for a nearby place. He couldn't stay around the hospital. They'd find him. "At the McDonalds near Cedar Sinai?" Questions, the man would pick now to ask questions! "Aquarius, please. And I need a gun, man. I'll explain everything when you get here." He hung up before the man could protest.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Oh look, police officers are searching my dad's warehouses over there." Foster turned back to Deaq. "Too bad, we're not in one of my father's warehouses. I mean, do they think I'm stupid? I wouldn't use my dad's warehouses! That would make it way too easy to find me! I may be insane, as you so kindly pointed out, but I am NOT stupid! I did want a front row seat to the search though. It's pretty cool to watch. You should see them, swarming like little black ants all over the buildings. Guess you don't have to see it though. You've been one of them, huh? Gary knew you were cops. But he'd been wrong before. Killed that one guy just trying to prove his theory. So I argued for letting you guys live until we had proof. When we weren't arrested after we drugged him, I was convinced you weren't cops. But not Gary. Now he's dead. Because of you! I'm going to kill you. And him. After I have some fun with him."

If wishing someone dead worked, Alan Foster would have been decomposing already. Deaq pulled on the handcuffs yet again while Foster was distracted, but it was no use. He wasn't getting out of the damn things. They were way too tight.

If Van had told someone about the call, they wouldn't be searching in the wrong place. That meant that Van was going to try to do this on his own. Damn it. Could things get any worse? Oh, that was a bad thought. Whenever he had that thought, things always inevitably got worse.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It had taken him a full fifteen minutes to get past the officer guarding his room. He had to try to convince the man that he needed yet another blanket, and that no one was answering his call button. He hid under the blankets he already had while the man tried the button repeatedly himself. He didn't notice that it was unplugged. Finally satisfied, he went in search of a blanket. Van waited until he rounded a corner before sneaking out of the room and down the hall. He ducked his head and hurried out of the ER doors.

Then he had to get past Deaq's mom in the waiting room. Luckily, she was reading a magazine, and he walked right past her. In another ten minutes, he slipped into the passenger's side of Aquarius's Mercedes. "Turn on the heat man. I'm freezing."

"Freezing? It's 78 degrees."

"Please."

"Whatever. Now spill." He turned on the heat and glared at Van, waiting for his explanation.

So that had taken another ten to fifteen minutes. The drive to the warehouse took twenty. Aquarius pulled up outside the fence and stopped.

"Okay, now once I'm inside, call Billie."

"I don't like this plan, Van."

"Just do it for me, please. Tell her, no lights, no sirens."

"Okay, fine. Be careful."

"I will. Hey, how's Abby?"

"She's fine."

"Good. This turns out bad, take care of her for me."

"You know I will. Just don't let things turn out bad."

"I'll try not to." He got out of the car. The gate was open. He slipped inside, something catching his eye as he did. Were those cops down the street? He watched as about ten men in black gathered around what looked like a SWAT truck on the street. He motioned to Aquarius, and the man shrugged. Well, if they were cops, at least he wouldn't have to wait long for backup. He headed for the door as Aquarius pulled away as they had planned.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Preston has nothing at the warehouses. They're pulling out," Billie told Parish and Mr. Hayes. They had struck out with the senior Foster. The old man told them that not only was his son not there, he was not welcome there anymore. His younger son was a coward as far as he was concerned. When they pressed, he let them in and sat smugly in his big leather chair while they searched, only to remind them that he had told them Alan wasn't there to begin with. Mullins had yet to report in from Foster Industries corporate headquarters. Where to go next? She'd seen the speedboat, but didn't Foster have a yacht as well? And what about the campus? "We should check the marina and the labs at the science building." Her phone rang just as she got into her car. "What! Son of a bitch, I'll kill him myself!" She reined in her temper. "Van left the hospital AMA," she told Mr. Hayes as he got into the passenger's seat.

"He found out about Deaqon."

"That would be my guess."

"Can you call him? Maybe he has some idea of where to look."

"His cell phone is missing. I'm going to kill him."

Her phone rang again. It was Aquarius.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Notes: My sincerest apologies for taking so long to finish this! Various ailments, writer's block, and just unrelenting RL got in the way. Then it took me forever to even remember where I was going with the story before I could finish. But it is done now. To those who will read it despite the long delay, thanks and enjoy. To new readers that might decide to give it chance, the same. DW

****

"Nice to see you too, Deaq."

Deaq rolled his eyes at his partner and sighed. Van looked terrible. His eyes were a little glazed, and he was shivering.

"Van, Van, Van. You know, some guy's been calling your cell phone all day?" Alan pulled Van's phone out of his pocket and showed it to him. "Don't worry. I let him know that you were otherwise occupied. He didn't seem too happy to hear that. I'll call him when this is all over to let him know about the funeral arrangements."

Van was confused. He shook his head, turning to Deaq for clarification. Deaq had a fairly good idea of who it was, who he hoped it was, but he couldn't be sure. He tilted his head toward one shoulder, the best he could do for a shrug at the moment.

"You know, he threatened to kill me? Can you believe it? All I said was that I had put you on ice, and he said he was going to hunt me down and kill me. I was hurt, I must say. I think maybe he misunderstood. What do you think?"

"I think you probably just pissed off a very dangerous man, Alan," Deaq said as Van seemed too stunned to say anything.

"Oh come on, Deaq, how dangerous could a cop's father be?" Alan laughed.

Van flinched.

"Well, let's see, Van's father just recently got out of prison and at this very moment is a wanted fugitive." Now it was Alan's turn to flinch. He hadn't been expecting that.

He recovered quickly though with another just slightly insane laugh. "Well, isn't that interesting? In that case, maybe I should get this show on the road, so that I can do the same." He held up the gun in his hand. "Recognize this, Van?"

Deaq's own recognition of the weapon only occurring as Van nodded. It was Van's gun.

"Nice gun. I'm going to kill your partner with it, and then I'm going to kill you. Unless!" He gestured wildly. "Unless you play a little game with me. Play my game, and I'll let Deaq go. Still going to kill you, you realize, but Deaq will walk out of here. What do you say?"

Van met Deaq's eyes again, and Deaq could see an apology there. "No, Van," he warned. "He's going to kill us both regardless."

Van hung his head. When he looked up again, he focused on Alan Foster. "Let's play."

"Damn it, Van!" Deaq swore. "Are you crazy?"

"You've always said I was." Van's half-hearted smile was yet another apology. Then there was a slight tilt of his head, a message. Van was stalling for time. He was waiting for backup. Deaq said a quick prayer that he wouldn't have to wait long.

Alan Foster grinned. "Good!" The man moved behind Deaq and grabbed the back of the chair, dragging it with him as he moved farther into the warehouse. "Come with us, Van. I'm about to show you guys exactly what you have been looking for. Gary was smart, you know? He knew that if we put anything in our names the cops, you, would find it. We couldn't use anything of our dad's either. If he found it, we were toast. So, we found this place. It had been abandoned for quite some time. The guy that owned it croaked, and his company went belly up. His family is fighting over what's left, but his son got this place. For a small cut, he let us build this." They went through a doorway and stopped.

Deaq tried to turn in the chair to see what he was talking about, but could not maneuver to see beyond Alan and his grand gesture.

"A building within a building," Van supplied.

"That's right. Got to have a secure place, right? To the outside world, this is an empty warehouse. Cool, huh?" He dropped Deaq's chair back onto all four legs, and Deaq could hear the rattle of keys moments before they came over his head. "Will you do the honors, Van? I have to keep my focus on my insurance." Deaq felt the barrel of Van's gun against his head once more. Van took the keys and moved around Deaq to unlock and open the door. "Go on inside. On the counter there you'll see a syringe." Once more, Deaq's chair was dragged into the room and then spun around to face Van. "I'll get the door." The heavy door slammed shut without Alan ever removing the gun from his head. "Locks automatically, need a key to get in and to get out. Speaking of which," he motioned for Van to give him back the keys. Van passed the keys over Deaq's head. "Now then. Take the syringe and inject yourself." He instructed as he shoved Van toward the counter.

Van moved to the counter, and Deaq saw him swallow hard, the fear obvious in his green eyes.

"Into a muscle will do. You don't have to worry about hitting a vein."

Van stood frozen, staring at the loaded syringe.

"Come on, Van. You said you'd play. Deaq's counting on you." A hard shove to Deaq's head with the gun punctuated the statement.

"What is it?" Van asked, his voice flat, not betraying his fear like his eyes so obviously did.

"Nothing you haven't had before. Actually, that's not entirely true. You had it mixed with other stuff. This, though, is just good ole Special K. I was working with it and some other things to create a new high, but most of them didn't work the way I wanted. The one I gave you at the party was as close as I got, but there was still the freak-out factor with that blend. One of my experiments actually killed that one guy. I think he had a stroke or an aneurysm or something. I wanted all fun, no freak and definitely no dead guys. So I give up. That's the last of the K right there in that syringe, and it's all for you. Don't worry. It's not an overdose. That would end the game too fast. Just make sure you go real slow. If you go too fast, you'll depress your breathing too much. That could kill you. Again, the game would be over before it's begun. We can't have that. Anyway, you got to the count of three before I kill Deaq, so you better get ready. One," he began the count as Van met Deaq's eyes and picked up the syringe. Deaq shook his head, only to get slapped across the side opposite the gun. "No interference from the audience. Two—"

Van took a deep breath and plunged the needle into his left leg. "Three," he said defiantly. "Happy?" he asked as he slowly injected the drug.

Deaq didn't have to see Alan's face; the smile was in the voice, "Oh, I will be. In just a few more seconds."

Van removed the needle and put it back on the counter. Deaq watched as his partner's eyes lost focus, and then slowly Van slid down to the floor.

"Yes!" Alan crowed. He finally came into Deaq's line of sight to move to Van's side. "So cool."

"It's going to kill him," Deaq said grimly.

"Not yet. It's a big dose, sure, but not enough to kill him. He may have gone too fast, though."

"And he wasn't in the best shape when he got here. Your game is over, Alan."

"No!" He whirled on Deaq, pressing the gun under his chin, then seemed to get a hold of himself. "No. My game is only just beginning." An uneasy silence filled the room as Alan looked back at Van, and Deaq held his breath waiting for the man's next move. A cell phone split the quiet, making both men jump. Alan snatched Van's phone out of his pocket once more. "What?" he demanded. After a pause, he said, "Well, bring it on, old man. By the time you get here, he'll be dead, and I'll be gone." He rattled off the address and hung up. "He's really getting on my nerves, Deaq. He really is. He just keeps calling. Let him come. He can collect the corpses." Alan walked away a few steps and ran his fingers through his blond hair. Deaq took the opportunity to look at his partner. Van wasn't moving; his eyes were open, but the look in them was vacant. A shiver went through Deaq that had nothing to do with temperature. Van looked dead already.

Alan sighed and caught Deaq's attention again. The man was grinning at Van. "Hey, you in there, Van?" He walked over and kicked him. "You better not be dead yet." He knelt down and put his ear to Van's chest. "Nope, he's still alive. Tripping like hell, but alive. You ever notice how pretty he is, Deaq? I mean, it's a damn shame that I'm going to have to kill him." He smiled at Deaq. "But there's nothing that says I can't have some fun with him before he dies, huh? It won't matter to him. He won't know it. Won't live to remember it, if he could, which he probably wouldn't anyway." He ran his hand over Van's face and then through his hair. "It's as soft as it looks, Deaq. You ever touch his hair? You ever touch him? Want to watch when I do?"

Deaq shook his head.

"Too bad. You're a captive audience, man."

"I'm going to kill you. If he doesn't beat me to it."

"He is not able to kill me, and you won't have the chance."

Van toppled over onto his side at that moment and Alan laughed. "I think he's uncomfortable. Don't worry. I'll help him out."

Where the hell was that back-up?

*****************************************************************************************

"Aquarius! Where are they?" Billie asked the big man even as she got out of the car.

"In there. What you got in mind?"

"Damned if I know. We go rushing in, there's a chance he kills them both before we get in the door."

"I gave Van a gun, but truthfully, he didn't look like he was in any shape to use it."

"I'm going to forget you said that."

"Linc," Aquarius acknowledged.

A nod was all he got in return. More cars arrived, and Parish got out and approached them while others swarmed over the area. The SWAT truck pulled into view as well. The men in the back exited quickly to receive their orders. Then they too dispersed. Billie saw them as they worked to set up a perimeter, and the snipers looked for positions and moved to take those positions. She took a deep breath and turned to Parish.

"Any movement?"

"No. Just got here myself."

The big man was about to say something else but was cut off by screeching tires. Every officer present spun to greet the intruder with weapons drawn. Raymond Ray flew out of the vehicle apparently oblivious to the more than fifteen guns pointed at him. "What the fuck is going on here? Some nut case keeps answering Van's phone and threatening to kill him. Why are you all standing here? Do something!"

"We are trying, Ray-Ray."

"Not too hard from what I can see. Do something or get out of the way while I do."

"You'll stay out of the way, or I'll have you arrested right here, right now."

He opened his mouth to say more, but she threw up one hand to cut him off. She turned her back to him and faced Parish and Lincoln Hayes. Deaq's father seemed to have zeroed in on Ray-Ray. She didn't have time for that either. "We have to find a way to get in that building. You and you," she called out to the officers closest to her, "try to find a way onto the roof."

"I've got a better idea. He's expecting me. Let me go in there." Ray-Ray spoke up again.

"Excuse me? What do you mean, he's expecting you?" Mr. Hayes asked before she could.

"I said, he's been answering Van's phone. Hell, he invited me! How do you think I found this place? ESP?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it was a parent's intuition. You certainly haven't been much of a parent." Hayes grumbled, not quite low enough to keep from being heard.

"Who the hell are you to comment?"

"A father! A real father. You know, the kind that kids don't have to wait until visiting day to see."

"Gentlemen! Enough!" Billie sighed. It was going to be a long night. "Okay, Ray-Ray, if he's expecting you, then let's use it. However!" she started before he could get too happy about it, "there are conditions. You are to distract him. That's it. Keep him talking. If you can, get him near a window so one of the snipers can take him out. Failing that, we will have to try to get inside without giving him a chance to kill all of you so make sure he's looking at you and not the doors or the roof. And don't get yourself killed. It won't really bother me or anything, but Van would be crushed."

"Billie, I don't know about this." Parish finally spoke.

"I don't either. I don't trust him." Hayes glared at Ray-Ray, who simply glared back.

"Not sure I do either, but if you guys have any better ideas, I'm ready to hear them." She waited. "Okay, then. Ray-Ray, you're on."

"About fucking time." Then he was gone.

*****************************************************************************************

Deaq had not felt this kind of urge to kill since he faced Dre's killer. He'd been denied the right to kill that S.O.B. by Cassidy, and he was being denied again to kill this one by the handcuffs and ropes holding him to the chair. He pulled at the cuff around his left hand, feeling the metal dig into his skin. He pulled so hard that he rocked the chair, which clanged on the concrete floor as it settled again. The noise distracted Foster from his attempts to undress his partner though, so that was something. That was the way to go. Distract the bastard any way he could. "Can't get a man when he's conscious so you have to drug 'em. Is that it? What's the matter, Alan? You got performance issues?"

"Shut up."

"Oooh, did I strike a nerve? You have to drug your women, too, I bet. I remember, you said, you swung both ways, right? I'll bet you can't even get it up if your partner is awake. Maybe it's so small you don't want anybody to see it. Yeah, that's got to be it."

"Shut up!" Foster stood up, grabbing the gun from the floor as he did. He pointed it Deaq. "Shut up or you're dead."

"You said I was dead anyway, so why shouldn't I just say what I want to say. Maybe my last chance. Let's see. What do I want my last words on this earth to be? Hmm, you know, I can't think of anything I'd like better than telling you what a worthless, pathetic, impotent little bitch you are."

"Fuck you!"

"Oh, I'd imagine you'd like to. Too bad you can't. After all, I'm awake. I'm not drugged out of my mind. I'm too much man for you to handle without some chemical equalizer." Oh god, was Van moving? Yes! He was. Deaq saw a flash of black in Van's hand. A gun? Please, god, let it be a gun!

"Foster…" Van's voice was slurred and weak, but it was indeed a gun in his hand. He sat up and attempted to level the gun at Foster, but it wavered. Deaq watched as Van shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as if he was trying to focus. Still, however, the hand holding the gun shook and moved erratically.

Alan Foster turned. "You think you can shoot me, Van? Can you even really see me, Van? Hello!" He waved his gun around in a circle and took a step forward.

"See three of you. Got more than three bullets," Deaq heard his partner mumble.

"Ah, but if you miss, you may hit Deaq here. That would be too bad, huh?"

Before Van had a chance to respond, a voice called out in the open warehouse. "I'm here, you little son of a bitch! You wanted me; you got me!"

Ray-Ray, Deaq realized. That could be a good thing, or a very, very bad thing.

"Our final guest," Alan remarked. "Too soon, but that's life." He leveled his gun at Van. "Come get your son's body, old man!"

"Shoot, Van!" Deaq ordered.

"Can't…"

"Shoot, damn it!"

He jumped when the gun went off. Another shot followed the first. As Alan Foster's body hit the ground, Deaq could see his partner on the floor beyond him. He was expecting blood. He knew Van had hit Foster. That much was obvious, but had Foster managed to shoot Van on the way down? There was no blood on Van though. He was ready with a sigh of relief, but it was quickly squashed by what he saw beyond his partner. Flames. Foster's shot had struck the lab table, and something had caught fire. "Oh shit. Ray-Ray! Over here! Get us out of here!" He yelled as he once again tried to get out of his bonds. Van was still sitting at the base of the lab table. Van, who was afraid of fire, who had been caught in a fire as a child, was so very close, too close, to the flames spreading across and down the table. He tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke. "Van, you gotta move, man. Come over here, okay?"

"I shot him."

"I know you did."

"It's okay now."

"No, Van, it's not okay. I need you to move over here."

There was a banging on the door. "Van! Deaq! Open the door!"

"Ray-Ray! You gotta get help, man. I'm tied to a chair, and Van's out of it. There's a problem, man!" He didn't want to say "fire" in front of Van. He was afraid of the response it would get, but he needn't have worried. He watched as his partner's head tilted as though he was puzzled about something.

"Pretty." Van actually reached toward the spreading flames.

"Van, no!"

"Not real," he told Deaq sincerely.

"Van! Van, this time it is real! It's real, Van." Dear god, he thought he was hallucinating! "V, this is not the time to lose your fear of fire! Please, Van, I need your help, partner!"

That got Van's attention. "Need the keys?"

"Yeah! Yeah, we need the keys."

There was more banging on the door, and Billie's voice called out to them.

"In here! Break it down!" He coughed. The smoke was getting thick, and the flames had started moving up one wall of the room. "There's a fire, Billie."

"Oh god!" Someone hit the door hard, but it didn't budge. Again and again, the door was struck, but it seemed determine to stay put. Deaq turned his attention back to Van, who was trying to stand up.

"No, V, stay low to the ground. Get the keys from Foster. Find the key to the door."

"The cuffs?"

"Forget the cuffs. We can worry about that when we get out of here. Find the door keys."

Van crawled over to Alan Foster. He groped for a moment, as if he couldn't really see, and Deaq remembered his comment to Foster. He was seeing three of him. Triple vision had to be a bitch. When he found the body, he struggled to turn it over, and when he did, Deaq could see the neat bullet hole right in the middle of the forehead. "Damn, V," he whispered.

Van's glazed eyes met his for a moment. "Couldn't aim low. Might've hit you. Can't believe I hit him."

Deaq couldn't believe it either, and the reasoning for aiming for the head scared the living hell out of Deaq, nearly as much as the fire that was still spreading. The pounding on the door continued.

Maybe that was the reason Van seemed then to lose focus and forget what he was doing. He looked confused and started looking around the room.

"The keys, Van." But it was too late. Deaq watched helplessly as Van panicked.

"It's on fire. The house is on fire."

"V, it's not a house. It's a drug lab. And who knows what the hell we are breathing in with this smoke. Focus now. Find the key. They can't get the door open, Van. We need the key. Alan had the key."

"Grandma. I gotta find her, Deaq. She fell down." Van started crawling away from him, back toward the flames and the worst of the smoke.

"Fuck! Van, listen to me! Your grandma isn't here! Listen to me, goddamn it! V, oh god, don't go back there." But Van disappeared into the smoke and flames beyond the burning table.

The pounding at the door took on a different sound then, and finally Deaq heard a crack and a screech. The door was giving way. "Hurry up! Please!" He choked as smoke burned his throat. He coughed, inadvertently drawing in more smoke as he struggled to catch his breath. His vision was getting gray, and his head was pounding. Or was that the door? His chest was on fire and so was his throat. And Van was gone.

Suddenly, someone was beside him. Billie. "Find Van," he pleaded before his vision faded on him again. He was aware that he was moving. Although, he didn't know how that was possible. He knew he was still cuffed to that fucking chair. But then he wasn't. He felt himself falling and expected to hit the hard concrete floor. Someone caught him. The voice was familiar; telling him it was okay, that he was safe. He decided to take the guy at his word.

***********************************************************************************************

His father's face loomed above him, and he had the strangest déjà vu of the time he wrecked his dirt bike in that sinkhole he was not supposed to be playing around. His father had the same worried, yet somehow pissed off look right now. What had he done this time?

"Clear!" he heard someone shout, and memory came rushing back in. He nearly knocked over his father as he scrambled up and ran to his partner. Van wasn't breathing. The paramedic shook his head and turned to charge the paddles again. They shocked Van again. He looked up into Billie's face and saw tears. He looked at Ray-Ray. The old man was praying. Actually praying.

"Van! Don't you die on me!" He meant to scream it, but the smoke inhalation had other ideas. His order came out as a hoarse croak. "Van! Please, V. Breathe, damn it!" Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to pull him away. He shoved them off. Aquarius, he realized, as he heard the man's voice. The words didn't penetrate, however. "Please, Van. You can't do this, man. Breathe, please."

"Sir," one of the paramedics started.

"No! Don't you stop! He is not going to die!" But they didn't shock him again. They didn't even seem to be starting CPR again. Fine, Deaq thought, I'll do it myself. He shoved the one closest to him out of the way, moved to Van's chest, and started compressions. He counted them off and then moved to do rescue breathing, but Billie stopped him. He was just before laying into her for giving up on Van when she moved to do the breathing herself. Then the paramedics were back with the paddles.

"Clear!" Deaq and Billie moved. Van's body convulsed as the shock ran through him.

"I'm not taking that damn cat if you die, Van! I mean it!" It was a crazy thing to say, but it was what came to mind.

Van's body convulsed again, but this time there was no shock to cause it. Then there was a ragged breath and coughing.

"Thank you, Jesus." That was his father's voice. He looked up at his father even as the panic that had sustained him deserted him. His father faded from his sight.

*******************************************************************************************************

"Lt. Chambers?"

The doctor stepped back when practically the whole waiting room rose as one.

"That's me." Billie stepped forward. "How are they?"

"I was treating Detective Hayes."

Billie glanced back at Deaq's parents as they moved to join her.

"He's going to be fine. He's suffering from smoke inhalation and some cuts and bruises mostly. I know there were chemicals in the fire, but I don't see any burning or scarring in the lungs or throat other than what we would find in a typical case. His throat will be sore for a week or so. He'll have to be careful of infection, but all in all, it could have been much worse."

Cheryl Hayes sighed with relief, and buried his head in her husband's shoulder.

"I tried to get him to agree to stay overnight for observation, but he wouldn't even discuss it. However, I get the feeling he intends to stay here anyway because of his partner, so I'm not going to push it. He doesn't have to be in a bed for us to watch over him," he concluded.

"Any news on Van?" It was Lincoln Hayes who asked.

"No, sorry. I'll see if I can find someone who might be able to give some kind of update. I think Dr. Grant is treating him."

Billie nodded. That was good news. She liked and trusted Dr. Grant after the McCussick incident. She knew Van trusted him as well. "Thank you, doctor."

He smiled and left them to resume their vigil.

***************************************************************************************************

Deaq tried to look casual as he slipped out of the exam room he had been placed in to go look for Van. He was fine. He didn't need doctors and nurses hovering over him. They needed to be taking care of Van as far as he was concerned. He wanted, no, needed to make sure Van was still among the living, that his partner would be okay. He surreptitiously made his way through the ER, peeking into exam rooms along the way. Van wasn't in any of them, however. He was starting to panic by the time he came to the trauma area. Van had been here before, not so terribly long ago. Sure enough, he was there again. Dr. Grant was with him, along with a host of other people all swarming around his partner. Just the urgency of their movements told Deaq it was just as bad as he had feared. Unfortunately, he was spotted before he could gain any real information, and a nurse dragged him from the room.

"You haven't been discharged, and you shouldn't be here."

"But—"

"No buts. Back to your room you go."

"How is he?" his voice pleading for the information.

"His body temperature is too low; his breathing is too shallow. His lungs are full of smoke, and his heart rate is too slow."

Deaq closed his eyes and slumped back against the closest wall.

"I believe in being honest," she stated. He looked at her closely for the first time and realized that he knew her. She was the one he had dubbed Brunhilda when Van was in the hospital after the McKussick episode.

"Under normal circumstances, I appreciate honesty."

"But not now. I understand, but lying to you won't change the facts. He's not doing well. If they get him stabilized here for even a half a minute, as far as he'll be going is ICU."

"Damn it." Deaq raked one hand over his eyes.

"Deaqon!" his mother's voice startled him, and before he could even push himself from the wall, her arms were around him. His father was right behind her.

Brunhilda, whose real name was apparently Karen, motioned back toward his exam room behind his mother's head. "Now," she added.

"Gotcha."

"We'll make sure he gets back to bed," his father assured her. They were in league against him. He was summarily ushered back to exam room 5 and practically tucked in by his mother while his father watched with an amused expression on his face.

"I only wanted to check on Van," he said, a distinct whining quality to his voice that annoyed even him.

"Did you find out anything?" his father asked.

"Yeah. It's not good. They can't get him stabilized. If they do, he's headed for ICU."

His mother closed her eyes and shook her head. His father was inclined to optimism. "Van's tough. He'll get through this. Your brother always said he was part cat. He had to have nine lives."

"Well, that would explain the whole fascination with that alley cat he adopted." Deaq leaned back and closed his eyes. He didn't mean to fall asleep, but it had been a long and trying day after all.

********************************************************************************************

It was nearly twenty four hours before Van's condition was upgraded from critical to guarded. The ventilator was removed about eight hours later. It was another ten hours before he showed any sign of waking and was upgraded again to fair condition. Even then, it was only a few mumbled phrases, possibly more dreaming than actual waking. Another six hours passed before Deaq, long freed from his own hospital captivity, got the sensation of being watched and opened his eyes to find Van looking at him. His partner's expression spoke of confusion, and Deaq sat up in the chair, moving quickly to lay his hand on one of Van's. "Hey, V. It's okay. It's all over; you're safe."

"Fire." The word sounded painful as it was forced out of Van's dry, raw throat. Deaq knew about that. He was still hoarse and sore himself.

"Yeah, there was a fire, but we got out. Foster's dead. Everything's cool."

Van's eyes slid closed once more as he nodded a little before slipping back into sleep.

"Everything's cool now." Deaq repeated, just to convince himself.

***********************************************************************************************

"Why is it that I can't get a frozen orange popsicle? They only bring me melted ones. I can't eat a melted popsicle, damn it." Van tossed the soggy package back on the tray. "I ended up wearing the last one. I'm not going to even bother opening this one." He gestured to it.

Deaq hid his smile. His partner bitching about a melted popsicle was music to his ears, scratchy music but music just the same. "I'll see if I can find someone about a popsicle."

"No, don't. It'll sound stupid."

"Since when have you worried about sounding stupid?"

"Oh, ha-ha, Deaq. Kick me while I'm down."

Deaq laughed. "I'll go find you a popsicle."

"Orange! And frozen!" Van made clear as Deaq exited the room. It had been two days since Van first opened his eyes and spoke to him. Ray-Ray had been hanging around, but as yet had not visited Van while he was awake. Van knew he was around though. Several people, Deaq and Billie included, had told him his father had visited. Van would just sigh and look out the window. Deaq was going to find a popsicle, but he was also going to find a pop. Van's Pop. He was going to talk to Van if Deaq had to handcuff the man to his own wrist and drag him in there. After relaying to the nurse at the desk the problem with the popsicle, which earned him a little chuckle and assurances that Van would get a frozen orange popsicle, he wandered down the hall looking for Ray-Ray. He found the old man staring out a window in one of the vending machine rooms. He cleared his throat to get his attention. "Your son is down there in that room wondering why you haven't been in to see him. He's thinking that maybe you're still mad about the Nancy Jo thing. That maybe you are really going to believe her and not your own son. He's thinking maybe you hate him. That what you want him to think?"

"No. I know Van was telling the truth about Nancy Jo. I always did. My pride got in the way. I was embarrassed, and I took it out on Van. I was coming back to try to clear all that up with him. That's why I called him, to get him to meet me, but I got that fruitloop instead." Ray-Ray sighed and plopped down in a nearby chair.

"So where is Nancy Jo?"

"Back in Nevada where she belongs. We weren't really legally married. I never filed the papers. I confronted her about the whole thing with Van, told her I knew the truth. She cried, pleaded, then screamed and threw things. I tore up the papers, packed her shit for her, and put her on a bus. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I wasn't. I was drunk, and she was there."

Deaq laughed quietly. "Well, now that that is settled, you have more important business down the hall, don't you think?"

"Yeah. I've just been trying to come up with something to say. What can I say? I acted like an ass."

"That would be a start. He'd appreciate the acknowledgement."

Now Ray-Ray laughed. "Yes, he would."

"Well, he's awake at the moment and bitching about melted orange popsicles."

Ray-Ray laughed again. "He always did like orange popsicles. Hates every other kind."

"Why?"

"He says that fake banana flavor is disgusting, and the cherry and grape taste like medicine. What was that kids' cold medicine? Something about Dimes or something. Had the grape flavor in it. His mother always force fed him that when he was sick. That and cherry flavored Children's Tylenol. So, he only eats the orange. Wouldn't even drink Kool-Aid or eat Jello as a kid either. Hated it all."

"Sounds just like Van. He has a cherry issue anyway."

"Ah, that he does. I remember that too. Something about digestion?"

"Yep. That's it."

The two men laughed again before Ray-Ray grew somber. "I think I need to go talk to Van."

"I agree."

Ray-Ray nodded and left the room quickly. Probably trying to get there before he changed his mind, Deaq thought as he watched him go.

****************************************************************************************************

Van was obviously surprised to see him standing in the doorway. "I don't suppose you have my orange popsicle?" he said, as if he was as unsure as Ray-Ray just what to say.

"No." Ray-Ray walked over to the bed and sat down in the chair. "What I do have is an apology. I know you didn't make a pass at Nancy Jo. I was acting like an ass. I got embarrassed and angry and took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"I hate her, Dad."

"She's gone. The license was never filed. I tore it up and shipped her back to Nevada."

"Thank god. You have the lousiest taste in women!"

Ray-Ray laughed. It was an old discussion between the two of them. He reached out and touched his son on the shoulder. "You scared the living hell out of me, you know? More than once lately. Stop it. You'll give me a heart attack."

"Well, the last week or so was not in any of my plans. Still, sorry. I'm really not trying to kill you. Although there have been times I thought about it. More than thought about it. Started planning—"

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'm a pain in your ass."

"But I love you anyway."

"I love you too, son." It was an awkward embrace, but they managed. "Well, I better hit the road before your boss-lady decides to arrest me."

The disappointment on Van's face made his heart flip in his chest. Van nodded though and then smiled. "If I had my handcuffs…"

"Yeah, kid, I know. Do try to be more careful."

Van nodded again and waved as Ray-Ray made his way out of the room. The door closed behind him, and he laid one hand on it and sighed before heading down the hall. He didn't bother to hunt down Deaq to say goodbye. He went straight to the elevator. Minutes later, he pulled out of the parking lot heading for the Pacific Coast Highway. Maybe he would head to Baja for a bit.

****************************************************************************************

Van leaned his head back against his pillows. One single tear slipped from the corner of one eye, and he swiped at it. Things would never be easy between he and his father, he knew that. He also knew he shouldn't keep h**o**ping it would get better, but he would. He was on the verge of a deep blue funk when Sylvia popped her head in the door.

The motherly nurse grinned at him. "I heard someone was very displeased with the state of his popsicles of late."

He smiled. He couldn't help himself. "They were all melted." God, he sounded like a five-year-old!

"Well, this one isn't!" She produced a popsicle from behind her back as she moved completely into the room. "And it's orange."

"You are my favorite person."

"Oh, it gets better! There is now a supply of orange popsicles right here on this floor in the nurses' lounge reserved just for you. No more melted popsicle for you."

"I may have to marry you."

She laughed as she opened the package for him before handing it over. "I think I'm old enough to be your mother. Besides, polygamy is illegal, and I have a husband already. I suppose I could talk him into a divorce. He's always saying that if I feed him one more fat-free, cholesterol-free meal, he'll leave me. I could buy some tofu on the way home. Okay, I'll marry you."

She made him laugh. He needed that.

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Billie closed the file on her desk. The Foster case was over. Both brothers were dead. The lab had been destroyed, rather inadvertently, but gone just the same. That was the important thing. She had just finished the last piece of required paperwork. It was well and truly over. The Elder Foster was pissed, but their case was solid, every base covered. The shootings had been ruled good. His boys were guilty and attempting to kill police officers at the time of their respective deaths. The brass was satisfied. And both her boys were alive and well. Deaq had picked Van up from the hospital just a few minutes ago, and they were on their way to the Candy Store. They had almost lost Van more than once on this one. She shivered as she thought about it. Van, who hated the cold and was afraid of fire, had come through both. Barely, but he had.

Then they were there. She frowned. Just how fast had they driven, damn it? No, wait, apparently, she had been lost in her thoughts for longer than she realized. They'd had plenty of time to get there. She smiled as they made their way to her office, apparently arguing about Van's cat yet again.

"She is not an alley cat, Deaq!"

"Okay, stray cat."

"She's not a stray. She might have been a stray, but now she's mine, and her name is Abby!"

"Whatever."

Van gave him the hand in exasperation. Billie snickered.

It was Van who stepped into the plexi-glass room first. "You ever thought about how much this office is like a fishbowl?"

"There he goes with the fishbowl thing again!" Deaq gestured at Van as he stepped up the final step into the office.

"Oh, come on, Van. I was thinking that the fishbowl house could be a regular cover for you."

"Oh, no. I was hoping the thing actually did burn down. I am not living in the fishbowl house ever again. After all, that place could give me flashbacks."

It wasn't funny to tease him anymore then. Billie sobered, and she saw the same pained look on Deaq's face as was probably on hers. She got up and came around the desk. She stopped in front of Van then abruptly embraced him. He was too shocked to respond for a long moment, then he hugged her back. She let him go, and he released her as suddenly as she had embraced him. He looked confused when she looked at him again.

"No more fishbowl house," she said. She stepped back then and shook herself to regain her normal composure and demeanor. "Now, we have a new case."

Just like that, it was back to business as usual. She hoped.

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Flames licked at him like a thousand little tongues, burning a thousand little places all over his body. He tried to move but couldn't. He screamed. Then he was falling. Into ice. At first the ice soothed the burns, but then it started its own burning against his skin. I'm going to die, he thought, even as the ground seemed to swallow him again. He was burning but freezing. He couldn't breathe.

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Someone was screaming! Van sat up in bed. The scream was gone though. He was covered in sweat, and he reached up to push sodden hair from his face. He closed his eyes and saw flames. He snapped his eyes back open. It had been him. He had been screaming. "A dream. It was a dream." He drew a shaky breath.

"Meow."

He looked down at the floor where Abby looked up at him. She jumped onto the bed then. She sniffed at him then rubbed against him. He scratched her head. She curled up next to him on the pillow, placing her furry head on his shoulder. Green eyes met green eyes. She yawned and blinked slowly. "I guess I woke us both up, huh?"

"Murr," was her sleepy response.

"Sorry. Missed you, girl." He didn't think he would be able to get back to sleep, but the soft rhythmic purring right next to his ear was soothing. The next time his eyes drifted closed, there were no flames. "Deaq called you an alley cat. You can scratch him next time he comes over, okay?" If she responded, he didn't hear it.


End file.
